


if this is hell (then let me stay)

by thorduna



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blood, Blood Magic, Bodily Fluids, Come Eating, Confusion, Consent Issues, Demon!Thor, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Groping, Hand Jobs, Hitchhiking, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Mystery, Negotiations, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Rimming, Rituals, Running Away, Supernatural Elements, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Trucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 49,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorduna/pseuds/thorduna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Where you going?” the driver asks as they pull off and start driving down the dark road. </i>
</p><p>  <i>“I don’t know. Wherever.”</i></p><p>Thor picks Loki up from the side of the road, saving him from the vicious cold. Loki is prepared to pay a lot for it - but not this much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. on the road

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [if this is hell (then let me stay)：自甘堕落](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6772552) by [Maryandmathew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maryandmathew/pseuds/Maryandmathew)



> Look at my shiny new WIP! I won't lie, I'm very excited.
> 
> But also look at the tags, mainly the "chose not to warn" and "other tags to be added" ones. This whole story will have terrible, terrible consent issues, and I might make a decision to include the archive warning non-con tag along the way. ~~BUT also, I made a decision not to tag for a rather crucial part of the story (not related to consent or any of the bigger archive warnings), because it would spoil the story in a major way. I believe that around chapter 3 or 4, this matter should be revealed, and the relevant tags therefore be added, so if this makes you uncomfortable, feel free to check here later.~~ More tags have beed added and the genre of the fic revealed!
> 
> Huge thanks to Cate for having stimulating (haha) conversations with me about Thor and Loki that just leave me panting and ready to write until my fingers are sore, thanks to Mona for being supportive about this idea, thanks to Bucky for helping with the title and huge, HUGE thanks to Sam for beta-ing.

“Hey, you want a ride?”

 

Loki looks up slowly, sniffling from the cold. A large truck has pulled over and the driver, a blond, long-haired man, is leaning to peer at Loki through the passenger seat window, brows twisted in concern.

 

Loki  _does_ want a ride. He is exhausted to the core, and just as frozen. The temperatures are as low as they get in the winter and the bus stop he is sitting at offers next to no shelter. He is curled tightly into himself on the bench, unable to feel his fingers and toes. There are no buses coming, not until the next day, and the last vehicle that passed through here – a truck, too – was willing to take him on, but only for a very clearly named price. Loki, the dumbass he is, refused. 

 

He is not refusing now, although probably the exact same fate awaits him. He should have done it those hours ago. At least he would have spared himself all this freezing and it would already be done.

 

On second thought... when he climbs into the (blissfully warm) cab of the truck, he sees that this driver is actually rather attractive, definitely more so than the sleazy, bald grandpa that offered to pick him up first.

 

“Where you going?” the driver asks as they pull off and start driving down the dark road.

 

“I don’t know. Wherever.”

 

It’s stupid to say that, but he’s too tired to give a damn and pretend that somewhere someone is waiting for him. He had finally snapped and now there was no going back. 

 

“Okay. What’s your name?”

 

“Loki.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Loki, I’m Thor.”

 

Loki just grunts and stick his fingers as close to the heater as he can.

 

They drive in silence for a while and Loki starts to warm up. The cab of the truck is actually clean and rather spacious, the seat is springy and soft. It sucks to realize that this is one of the most pleasant situations he’s been in in the past two weeks. The truck driver – Thor – also seems nice enough, cranking the heat up for him. Loki feels him watching as he finally unties his scarf, which was previously covering half his face as he tried to protect himself from the cold.

 

Some time after, Thor reaches to rummage for something underneath Loki’s seat, deliberately brushing his hand over Loki’s knee. Loki stays put, not flinching away from the touch.

 

“Do you have anything to eat?” he asks when his fingers regain feeling and he flexes them. If he’s going to end up the way he thinks he is, he might as well make it worth the price. Warmth, a ride, some food... He better make sure what he has to do doesn’t come cheap.

 

“There’s some chocolate bars, here,” Thor says and reaches between the seats into one of the many compartments the cab is equipped with. Truckers live on the road. “There’s a truck stop in an hour and a half, I wanted to spend the night there. I can make you something better when we get there.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Looks like his impending doom has a countdown – t minus ninety minutes. He eats the chocolate bar and has some coffee from a thermos that Thor offers him, vaguely thinking about everything he’s ever heard about blowjobs. Maybe he won’t want that though, this  _Thor_ . Loki glances at him. He’s humming along to the radio, and up close, he looks a bit younger than Loki originally thought he was. Maybe he will just fuck him. Loki hears that it hurts, but it’s still better than freezing to death.

 

Or going back home for that matter. 

 

After over two weeks away, Loki feels better than he can remember feeling in a very long time – when he’s not freezing at abandoned bus stops at night, that is. He is especially happy that the headaches are gone. Aching ribs and banged up limbs he can deal with, but lately every slap to the face had been bringing on killer headaches. But he doesn’t want to think about that now. The seat is comfortable and he is finally warm, able to give in to the tiredness he feels and he lets his head just loll against the headrest, half dozing. He’s vaguely aware of Thor glancing at him often, but being out of the cold – and a pretty real danger of freezing to death – he doesn’t pay any attention to it. Price to pay, that’s all. He’s not stupid.

 

After the hour an a half that Thor predicted, they do slow down and Thor gets his attention by putting a light hand on his knee.

 

Loki opens his eyes and looks around. When Thor said ’truck stop’, Loki thought it would be connected to a gas station at least. Or maybe even a tiny motel. But what they pull up at is nothing but a dark parking lot, covered in snow. There is one other truck parked there, but as they make a turn to find their parking spot, their headlights illuminate it and Loki sees that two of the wheels were replaced with stacked bricks. They stop and Thor slips out, opening some kind of a large panel outside with a key. He tugs a cable out from beneath his seat and connects one end to the panel, the other to the underside of the truck.

 

“Electricity. So I don’t have to keep the engine on and run out of gas.”

 

“Neat,” Loki just says. He doesn’t care. Thor has to notice as he’s hauling himself back into the cab, patting Loki’s head.

 

“Come on, chin up. I actually have a pretty decent den back here. I can make you soup, noodles, or I even have some canned stuff here...”

 

As Thor lists all these things, he is opening small door between the seats that leads to the back and turning the light on. Loki peeks in.

 

It’s... interesting. It does look like a small room furnished with everything. There’s a bed – just a mattress really, a hot plate, a bean bag, and even a small TV.

 

“Huh.”

 

“Told you.”

 

Loki isn’t shy when he asks for the noodle soup first, and then points at some kind of a ’meat in sauce’ can. Thor heats everything up for him and turns the TV on, and while the volume is low, Loki is grateful for something to cover his hungry chomping and for something to look at to escape how awkward he feels.

 

“I keep wanting to ask you what happened to you, but...” Thor says quietly when Loki hands him back the now-empty noodle bowl and starts on his _second course_.

 

“But you know it’s the same predictable shit that happens to everyone,” Loki finishes for him, mouth full of the meat. He doesn’t even know what it is, but it’s hot and salty and tastes somewhat like tomatoes, so he’s happy.

 

“That’s not how I would put it,” Thor smiles and Loki studies him. He really is rather good-looking, dressed in a red flannel shirt and an unzipped dark gray hoodie over it. Big, though. Strong.

 

Loki thinks about the snowed-in nothingness around them. He’s going to do himself a favor by playing nice, that’s for sure. Thor seems laid back, but that could mean nothing. Loki knows how quickly people can change tunes, especially when it comes to him. No, he won’t risk getting stranded here, and he doesn’t want to get tossed around either. He’s not missing those headaches.

 

Thor gets up and squeezes his shoulder lightly. “You finish up. I’m gonna go hit the john and then we can get some rest.”

 

Rest. Right.

 

He finishes the food, just barely resisting licking the bowl. Then he puts it aside and grabs a bottle of water from a pack stuffed in the corner. It’s even sealed, so chances are he will be awake for whatever happens next. He doesn’t even know if that’s a good or a bad thing.

 

Then he peels off some of his clothing. His scarf and coat, sweater and t-shirt too. The cab is nice and warm and he decides to get ahead of the schedule and just undress completely, pulling his pants and underwear down. The food has made him sleepy which is an almost pleasant feeling if it weren’t for the deep bone exhaustion making itself known. He is reaching his limits – he needs to rest and the sooner whatever Thor wants is over, the better. 

 

The mattress is surprisingly soft, and it’s not tiny either. He snuggles underneath the thick blanket and closes his eyes, for a moment pretending that he’s alone, that he’s in his room – not  _that_ room, just some nice comfortable room to call his own – and that this is not happening. But too soon Thor is back, ruffling around the truck, and then he’s in the cab, turning the TV off and undressing. Loki cracks his eyes open just in time to see Thor reach into a compartment that is bolted to the wall above the mattress and pull something out. The rustle tells Loki everything he needs to know and he sighs.

 

“Asleep?” Thor asks quietly.

 

“No.”

 

And just like that, Thor is with him underneath the blanket and  _fuck_ . It’s one thing to resign himself to it and it’s a whole nother thing to feel a hot, huge body pressed to him. Thor doesn’t stink, not exactly, but his musk fills Loki’s nostrils all the same, overwhelming and very real. He forces himself to stay calm, letting Thor come close and not protesting their cozy arrangement.

 

Thor doesn’t waste any time. His hands are on Loki right away, locking around his waist, pushing him onto his back. Thor kisses him – rough and demanding, his beard scratching Loki’s already irritated skin. He doesn’t know what to do other than let his lips fall slack. The last time he kissed someone he was twelve and playing spin the bottle. 

 

It seems to be good enough for Thor though and he reaches underneath the covers to grope Loki between the legs, slipping past his cock and pressing fingers into the crack of his ass. Loki squirms a little.

 

“Don’t worry, I have lube,” Thor murmurs to him, lips brushing Loki’s cheek even as his fingers prod Loki in places he quite frankly never thought another person would ever be touching him.

 

“So use it,” Loki hisses at him, disconcerted at the feeling.

 

“Don’t be like that,” Thor croons at him, but there is an edge to his voice. A warning.

 

So Loki resigns himself to silence, staring at the plastic ceiling as Thor licks at his neck and collarbones, fingers still toying with Loki’s ass. He  _does_ use the lube soon enough though, spilling some over his fingers and thrusting his hand underneath the blanket again. Loki jerks when the cool liquid is spread over his hole, but it’s quickly warmed up by Thor’s insistent fingers. Then he pushes one in and Loki yelps, surprised. That feels  _fucking weird_ and he flushes in embarrassment for some reason. It hurts a little too; it’s an odd, prickly burning feeling. He must make some kind of unhappy sound because Thor looks at him, frowning.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

He was told not to complain, so he wouldn’t – he had made up his mind about complying hours ago. But Thor’s fingers have stilled inside him and he is looking down at Loki in the dull light cast by the dashboard up front. 

 

“Have you done this before?”

 

There’s doubt in Thor’s voice and Loki grunts in annoyance.

 

“No.”

 

Thor pulls his finger out and Loki wonders if maybe this means they’re done. As long as he doesn’t end up out in the snow, he’d quite like that.

 

No such luck.

 

“A virgin,” Thor says, suddenly gleeful and sounding way more excited than he was a minute ago. “You know, I wouldn’t believe you if I didn’t _just_ feel how tight your ass is. If I didn’t see you squirm against it.”

 

“Yeah, well...” What the hell is he supposed to say to that? Tell him to go ahead? Loki is fucking exhausted and he’d like this to be over so he can sleep. He was ready to let Thor do what he wanted to keep himself cared for and safe, but encouraging him?

 

“And not a word of protest from you,” Thor goes on, voice filled with wonder. “Here you are, naked on my cot.”

 

“Maybe I never had a dick in my ass, but I’m not fucking stupid,” Loki snaps at him, growing nervous. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. “Or naive. So just do what you want, don’t hurt me, drive me to civilization in the morning and we’re good, okay?”

 

“Oh, baby,” Thor breathes, petting Loki’s cheek with his dry hand. “That was the plan, it really was, you have to believe me. But that was before I learned you were not touched before. This changes everything.”

 

A sharp shiver of fear cuts through Loki at Thor’s words. His tiredness is gone, chased away by the surge of adrenaline. Thor sounds almost... reverent, like he’s some kind of a fucked up priest and Loki is a pure virgin about to get gutted on an altar.

 

Thor kisses him; this time it’s a close-mouthed, gentle kiss that lingers but never turns into anything more.

 

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

 

“What? No.” It feels weird to protest against Thor _stopping,_ but every instinct in Loki’s body is telling him that whatever Thor means to do instead of this quick tumble as payment will be way worse. “Come on. Just fuck me. For the food and the ride.”

 

In his panic, he has sat up and now he is squeezing Thor’s forearm in his hands, shaking him.

 

So quickly Loki almost doesn’t notice he is moving, Thor slams him back into the mattress. 

 

“Go. To. Sleep.” Thor growls at him harshly. Loki was right. He _could_ change a tune. “We have a long way ahead of us tomorrow.”

 


	2. on the road pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for all the feedback :)  
> Thanks so much to [Sam](http://thorsicle.tumblr.com) for beta-reading!

He didn’t think he would be able to fall asleep after everything that had happened, but he must have eventually, his exhaustion wearing him down. When he wakes, for a second he just feels warm and comfortable – safe – until he shifts, hoping to burrow deeper into the pillows, and the memories come flooding back, along with awareness of strong, warm thigh pressed to his own legs. His eyes snap open and he sucks in a startled breath. Thor is on his side next to him, head propped up on his hand, leaning on his elbow. He looks wide awake and a small smile is playing on his lips. Loki shivers when he realizes that he’s spent the entire night next to this man. His smile is indulgent almost, gentle, and his eyes have a soft look in them, but now, knowing what he knows, Loki can see the danger lurking beneath.

 

“Sleep well?”

 

Loki swallows emptily. The worst thing is that he  _did_ sleep well, but fuck if he’s going to admit that. The mattress was comfortable, he was warm, and he needed to sleep so badly he did so even though there was this psycho crowding him.

 

“No,” he just scowls.

 

“Too bad,” Thor hums. “We have lots to do today.”

 

“Yeah? So why are you here, creeping on me, instead of getting busy?”

 

Now that the lethargy of yesterday is gone, courtesy of food, warmth and sleep, Loki is fucking furious. Mostly at himself for getting himself into such a shitty situation, but at this  _Thor_ as well. But Thor just laughs, leaning to peck Loki on the cheek. Loki lashes out without thinking, swatting at him with both hands and trying to push him off. Then he freezes, realizing what he’s doing and waits for the blow to land. 

 

It never does and Thor seems outright amused as he gets up. He’s wearing a pair of boxers and nothing else – which Loki already knew, having felt as much underneath the blanket as Thor kissed him last night – and he stretches as much as he can in the cramped space with his height, yawning loudly. White morning light is streaming from the windshield, reaching even the room in the back of the cab and Loki’s hands curl into fists as a mixture of fear and frustration fills him at the sight of Thor’s large, muscled body.

 

“You can rest up,” Thor tells him as he’s putting his jeans on, followed by a clean shirt and that bulky hoodie he was wearing the day before.

 

Once Thor is out of the cab and opening the doors of the truck up front, Loki is jumping out from beneath the covers and putting his clothes on in a hurry. He doesn’t think he can stay naked for another second, even though now, after he’s been out of them for a while, he wrinkles his nose at the musty smell of them. He has a pair of socks and underwear in his backpack, and a spare shirt too, but he knows they are no better.

 

Besides, he’s not exactly planning on charming anyone. Once he is dressed, he feels fractionally better and he gulps down some water, not realizing how parched his throat is. Fuck, he’s in a mess. He needs to get out of this as soon as possible.

 

He peeks out from the back into the cab just in time to see a whistling Thor climb back in, a loop of cable in his hand. He guesses that means they’re heading out right away. 

 

Nervous and a bit scared, Loki flops onto the passenger seat and watches as Thor bustles around. He seems to be packing things from the truck as well, not just getting ready to leave. He is stuffing two duffel bags full of clothes and tossing some food cans into a large box as well.

 

“Where are we going?” Loki asks.

 

“In due time, sweetheart,” Thor beams at him, his voice turning deep and intimate on the endearment.

 

“Fuck you.”

 

He just murmurs it under his breath, just letting some of his frustration out, but suddenly Thor is right  _there_ , leaning into his space and Loki flinches, drawing into himself. Damn his mouth. No matter how angry he is, and no matter how much the situation has changed from what he’d resigned himself to yesterday, the bottom line remains the same. He should keep himself in check if he wants to avoid wholly unnecessary hurts and pains. 

 

But Thor doesn’t hit him, he just takes him by the chin – gently, but then again, Loki isn’t fighting it when his face is turned towards Thor’s – and peers at him, strange expression on his face. 

 

Then, of  _all_ things, Thor sniffs at his neck.

 

“You are precious,” Thor tells him approvingly and lets go. Tears well in Loki’s eyes and he can’t stop them – the sudden onslaught of helplessness is too much to handle. He draws his knees up and tucks his head down, sniffling miserably. He’s not used to this – not used to getting kidnapped, of course – but it’s more than that. He should be relieved that Thor didn’t thrash him for his anger and for his backtalk, but relief is just about furthest thing he feels.

 

Thor leaves him be, even though Loki can hear him stop what he’s doing when he can’t hold back a sob. As Thor is finishing up whatever packing he’s doing and getting behind the wheel, Loki’s head snaps up.

 

“I need to piss.”

 

“Okay,” Thor says mildly. “You can go outside.”

 

Loki opens the door and jumps out from the truck, landing at the crunchy, slippery mixture of gravel and old snow. The cold air hits him and he shivers right away, only the pressure in his bladder convinces him to undo his pants and take his cock out. When he’s finished, he looks around. In the light of the day, he sees that the other truck is even in a worse shape than he thought before. Rusty. Long forgotten. The snow is piled high on many parts of the parking lot, completely undisturbed.

 

It’s like nobody ever comes here.

 

He stands and stares at everything around him until shivers begin to wrack him.

 

Then he climbs into the truck with a dawning feeling that he’s signing a death sentence for himself.

 

* * *

 

They drive for hours and all the while, Thor seems to be in an excellent mood, singing along to the radio, reaching over to pat Loki’s knee every now and then, saying things that are probably meant to cheer Loki up, like pointing out something interesting in the increasingly wild nature around them or promising him a warm drink. Loki tries to ignore him and  _think._ They aren’t headed towards any larger cities from what he can tell, quite the contrary. He doesn’t like the implications of that at all.

 

“What are you going to do with me?” he asks after hours of silence on his part, turning towards Thor and trying to sound as firm and as demanding as possible. He hopes this direct approach gets him some results.

 

“It’s a little complicated,” Thor just says, shrugging.

 

“The fuck it is,” Loki growls at him. How could it possibly be _complicated_? “Just tell me. What is it? Are you going to _sell_ me?”

 

“No,” Thor responds right away, turning his head to the side, a rare frown on his face. “I’m not selling you.”

 

“What then? Kill me? Rape me? Torture me? All of the above?” Loki shoots the options one after another with a sneer but his voice is beginning to shake and a wave of nausea makes him question the wisdom of putting the reality of what is happening to him into words. _Oh shit._ He thinks he’s going to puke.

 

“Loki...” Thor groans. He sounds exasperated, as if Loki is a kid asking _are we there yet_. Then he sighs loudly, dropping his head against the headrest and glancing at Loki before turning his eyes back onto the road. “I’m not going to kill you. And I will do my best to not hurt you, alright? And as for sex... well, you already said yes.”

 

Fuck. So that’s it, then. Is Thor seriously thinking that’s how it works? Loki’s head is spinning. He almost believes that Thor isn’t planning on killing him – not yet anyway – but here they are. Sex. That’s what Thor wants.

 

Loki steels himself to speak. “Well I’m taking it back, okay? Just let me go. I don’t want you to touch me.”

 

Thor shakes his head and when he speaks, there’s obvious finality to his tone. “You can’t take it back. It is done.”

 

* * *

 

It’s just beginning to get dark – not a big feat considering it’s winter and  they’re in the far north of the country – when Thor takes a turn onto the smallest road they’ve been on yet. Throughout the day, they’ve left the highways and larger roads and headed further into the mountains. It was slow going as the truck was meant for those larger roads and it struggled in the snow and on the increasingly sharp turns. Just as Loki is beginning to think Thor was crazy – more than is already obvious, that is – they stop.

 

They are in the middle of nowhere and there’s nothing but forest around them, the branches dangerously heavy with snow. Thor turns the engine off, gathering all the bags he packed.

 

“Get your backpack and coat and let’s go.”

 

Hungry and cramping from sitting all tense in the same position for hours, Loki obeys. He feels a little shell-shocked, almost removed from himself. The future – even the next few minutes – seems like a bleak, black hole, and he numbly goes  through the motions of bundling up in his coat and scarf and grabs his backpack and the few possessions he still has. 

 

“There’s nothing here,” he points out unnecessarily once he is outside, clouds of mist rolling from his mouth. “Are we walking?”

 

“Nope,” Thor smiles, but doesn’t volunteer more. He is wearing a fur lined leather jacket over his hoodie now and it makes him seem even bulkier and bigger than before. Loki looks at the frozen ground, unsettled. Then Thor sets down the road with clear purpose and a slight bounce to his step. Loki follows miserably, turning over his shoulder to look at the truck they are leaving behind. What cargo was Thor carrying, if any? Or was Loki the only cargo the truck was ever meant to pick up?

 

They walk for perhaps five minutes and Loki worries. His boots, worn and old, are getting heavy with the snowy and he is starting to slip and burrow into the deep snow. Not long after, Thor  stops, seemingly for no reason as  Loki certainly doesn’t see how this part of the forest road is different from the one they’ve left behind. He puts his bags and the box down, leaving the road and walking between the trees. Loki freezes, wondering if Thor is just going to gut him here and now. He stands uncertainly, trying to see what Thor is doing. Then he sees Thor heading towards some kind of a dark shape and-

 

Ah. His relief is probably misplaced, but he feels it anyway. Hidden underneath a sheet and a pile of evergreen branches, there is a car – an older pick-up, clearly equipped for the snowy roads and the mountains. Thor fusses around the car for a while, probably checking the condition and Loki approaches carefully, slipping into the passenger seat without prompting. 

 

It’s freezing inside of course, but Loki makes a valiant effort to get comfortable. He tells himself that this is a good thing – as good as they come in his situation. This is just another interlude. They still have a journey before them and Thor won’t do anything on the road. He’s shown that.

 

He wishes it could bring him more comfort than it really does.

 

Soon enough, Thor is behind the wheel and he starts the engine. It protests and rumbles for a while, but then jumps on, and Thor lets out a little delighted  _ah,_ turning to give Loki a smile as though Loki is somehow supposed to share his joy.

 

As the engine warms up, the heaters start to work and Loki clings to the feeling of warmth spreading through him as they set out into the night.

 


	3. cabin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [Sam](http://thorsicle.tumblr.com) for beta-reading!
> 
> And thank you guys for all the feedback! I can't get enough of your thoughts about where this is all going etc. :))))

Loki doesn't fall asleep but it's a near thing – at one moment he finds his head bouncing off the window and he shakes himself. He should be keeping a track of where they’re going and how long it takes to get there, but the darkness and the repetitive scenery of the forest makes that impossible.

 

“Thor, please,” he tries when they've been driving for hours. “Don't do this. Just drive me somewhere... even the smallest of towns, a gas station, wherever. _Please_. Don't do this. I won't tell anyone... I won't snitch on you.”

 

“Sweetheart, you'll be fine,” Thor tells him firmly. “I can't stop you from worrying, but... just try and relax.”

 

“I'm not going to relax,” Loki hisses, dropping the pleading tone he tried to employ. “You pretty much told you were going to keep me for sex.”

 

“You'll be _fine,_ ” Thor repeats and this time there is obvious strain in his voice. “There are things you don't understand yet.”

 

That's no comfort at all so Loki turns his back on Thor, curling in his seat and looking out of the window. It's started to snow and Loki doesn't know if he’s ever seen something so bleak and impenetrable. Miles and miles of dark forest, temperatures well below freezing, and thickly falling snow covering everything in sight and making the visibility bad.

 

And covering their tracks.

 

Loki doesn't expect that very many people will be looking for him, but as it is, there could be a nation-wide manhunt for him and he wouldn't be found anyway.

 

“I'm hungry,” he complains. And he is – all he's had all day were those chocolate bars Thor kept in the truck. His mouth is rough and sticky, all that sugar and caramel leaving traces behind, which is not at all helped by the fact that he hasn't brushed his teeth for at least two days now.

 

“We'll be there soon,” Thor assures him. “And I'll make you something.”

 

“Tell me where we are going,” Loki demands, latching onto the topic. Thor just shrugs.

 

“A house. A cabin, really, up in the mountains. It's not luxurious, but it has everything we'll need.”

 

Loki doesn't like the sound of that. _Everything we will need_ . Thor is going to be the one deciding that. For all Loki knows, all that he's going to _need_ is a hard mattress in the basement with a couple of shackles leading to it.

 

They finally pull up at their destination, perhaps an hour later, and Loki frowns in confusion as he glimpses the outline of the building. Based on what Thor said, he was expecting a shack of some kind, but this house looks reasonably sized. Up close he sees it's made of wood with large windows facing the valley.

 

He follows Thor from the car to the front porch. There they make a short stop and he watches Thor switch on the electricity, breathing a sigh of relief. There's that at least. The inside of the house is very cold, but the lights come on. The interior is nice, if basic, and he sees where Thor was coming from when he said it would not be luxurious, but sufficient. Most of the ground floor seems to be taken up by a kitchen and a living room in one. The walls are a little bare, but everything is clean. Wood is the dominant feature in the furniture and there is a large hearth that Thor lights immediately, hauling in some firewood that was stacked on the porch.

 

Loki flops in front of the blazing flames once the logs catch and start crackling to soak up every bit of warmth, staring into the fire numbly as Thor moves around the cabin and sets everything up. He only stirs when the unmistakable smell of sautéed garlic permeates the air. He ventures to investigate and finds Thor boiling pasta and making tomato sauce. His stomach rumbles loudly and Thor looks at him, smiling.

 

It's getting on Loki's nerves, the way Thor seems so damn _happy_.

 

“Why me?”

 

Thor stirs the sauce and shrugs. “I would think that was obvious. You're a virgin.”

 

“Maybe I lied. Guys like that sort of thing, as you just proved.”

 

“You didn't lie.”

 

Thor sounds so calm and certain that Loki wants to punch him. He would probably just succeed in breaking his fingers, but it might be worth it. For a moment.

 

“Can't you get a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend? Do you really need to kidnap people for sex?”

 

At this point he doesn't expect a reaction – Thor has been good at completely ignoring the reality so far, acting like everything was just the way it was supposed to be, but he frowns at the sauce he is stirring and stays quiet.

 

When the food is done, Thor divides the pasta into two bowls and they eat it in silence, sitting at a large dining table that separates the kitchen and the living room. Loki scarfs down everything that’s on his plate, finishing before Thor, who pauses and looks at him before scooping out most of his remaining portion and dumping it into Loki's bowl.

 

“You're a real gentleman,” Loki tells him, not even attempting to curb his sarcasm, but he eats the extra pasta anyway.

 

But it does get him thinking. Thor is not _nice_ . That's obvious. _Nice_ people don't kidnap other people. But he acts so normal most of the time... decent, almost. He’s certainly not hit Loki yet and in Loki's book, that's pretty novel.

 

He looks around the room.

 

_Everything we need_.

 

It could be that way. In some other universe, he could be here with his boyfriend – or whatever – spending winter vacation far from the bustle and chaos of the cities, cooking and eating simple meals and taking walks in the snow. He looks at the blazing hearth and at the large bear rug in front of it that he'd been sitting on. And having romantic sex in front of the fire, of course. This thought pulls him right out of that rabbit hole of _what if_. It's probably what Thor is trying to do with his lack of violence and this forced normality.

 

He's trying to make Loki think he should just accept it. Make him think that he is not a kidnap victim and that Thor is not about to rape him, but that they’re just two reckless people who met and skipped dating, going straight to romantic vacationing.

 

Well, fuck that. If Thor is so intent on playing out this fantasy, then he is bound to get too deep into it and will forget himself. Loki won't forget it for a second. He will wait for his chance. Something has to come up. There has to be a way out.

 

* * *

 

There is a way out, and it's an obvious one. It's the pick-up. Loki can't drive very well, he certainly doesn't have a driving license, though he's already eligible to get one, but he knows the basics. Thor is not restraining him – he hasn't since that evening, when he pushed Loki down and made him go to sleep, but there have been no ropes, no cuffs, nothing like that, and even though it makes him grumpy, Loki has to admit that from Thor's point of view there's probably been no point. He can't just go dashing into the forest on foot. Not only might Thor catch him very soon, being larger and stronger, but even if Loki got away, the only thing waiting for him would be freezing to death; the same thing that put him into Thor's grasp in the first place.

 

So, Loki's goal is simple. Locate the car keys.

 

After dinner, Thor shows him the rest of the house. There is a master bedroom on the ground floor, with an adjoining bathroom. Upstairs are two smaller bedrooms and another bathroom as well, but where the master is furnished and reasonably nice, the rooms upstairs are pretty much bare and Loki gets the feeling that Thor shows him just to sate his curiosity.

 

“You must be tired,” Thor says when the tour is over. “Why don't you go wash up and then we can go to sleep.”

 

They are standing in the hallway and Loki sees the king bed through the open door to the master bedroom. Sleep. Of course.

 

He pushes that thought to the back of his mind and heads for the bathroom. A bath sounds like a _divine_ thing right now. He is less pleased when Thor follows on his heels, but at least all he does is rummage through a cabinet that stands in the corner of the bathroom and hands Loki soap, an unwrapped toothbrush and a bottle of shampoo.

 

Loki watches him suspiciously as he leaves and closes the door behind him. He really wants to shower and get cleaned up, but he’s still hesitating as he takes his clothes off, disliking the vulnerable feeling of being naked. But it can't be helped. He leaves his dirty clothes in a heap on the floor and steps into the tub, turning the shower on. It takes ages for it to warm up, but it finally does and Loki steps underneath the stream, letting it soak his hair. He just stands there for a while, trying to at least partially relax. He scrubs his teeth and lathers the soap all over his body, already feeling marginally better.

 

He is just starting to work the shampoo into his hair when the door clicks. He freezes. No. Not now.

 

But nothing happens and in less than a minute, the door closes again and Loki is almost sure he’s alone. He washes the shampoo off and peeks out from behind the shower curtain.

 

He is alone, yes, but his clothes are gone. He swallows. There is one towel on the rack and that's it.

 

This development pretty much ruins the rest of his shower and he just goes through the motions, not enjoying the feeling of getting clean anymore; he's overrun with anxiety instead. He's going to have to walk out of here naked with just the towel. Granted he would probably be disgusted if he had to put those stinky clothes on his clean body, but... that should have been his choice.

 

_Nothing is your choice, Loki_ , he reminds himself.

 

He uses the towel to dry off and then dry his hair as best as he can. When he's done, the towel is cold and wet, but he wraps it around his hips anyway.

 

Thor is not in the bedroom when Loki opens the door carefully and surveys the room. He steps out of the bathroom, shivering. The heat of the shower warmed up the small room, but out here it's still chilly. He wonders what to do when his eyes fall on the bed. On top of the duvet several pieces of clothing are laid out, clearly meant for him. He approaches the bed in disbelief and just stares.

 

_What the fuck_.

 

The clothing – if he can call it that – looks like a cross between woman's underwear and sleepwear. It's some kind of a two-piece made of sheer, off-white material. The bottom is cut like loose shorts might be and the top is just as odd. It's a camisole of sorts, with wide straps, light and flowing. Beside them is a pair of white woolen socks.

 

Loki picks the camisole up, still holding the wet towel around his waist with his other hand. The fabric is feather soft; Loki doesn't think he's ever seen anything like it. Then he wrinkles his nose. There's odor to it, stale and unpleasant, like something you pull out from the bottom of your grandmother's closet, stinking of old lavender and mildew.

 

Thor comes in then and Loki drops the camisole like it’s burned him.

 

“Where are my clothes?” he snaps.

 

“You're not getting them back,” Thor says matter-of-factly, removing his hoodie and tossing it onto a chair that sits in the corner.

 

“I'm not putting this on,” Loki argues, pointing to the offending articles of clothing. “What is it even? It's disgusting.”

 

Thor shrugs. “You don't have to. You can stay naked.”

 

Loki snaps his mouth shut, cutting off the curses that are gathering at the tip of his tongue. Instead, he tries to think. What is it that Thor wants? Does he really want Loki to wear these clothes or did he purposefully pick something tacky so that Loki would choose nudity instead?

 

He wants to know so that he can do the opposite.

 

“You have clean shirts, I saw you packing them,” he tries. “Give me one of those.”

 

Thor cocks his head at him, smiling. Then he takes off the shirt that he’d been wearing, blue and gray flannel, and he lays it on the bed.

 

“I'm going to shower. You can put on what I gave you, you can stay naked, or you can wear that,” he points to the shirt he just took off. Loki is sure if he picked it up now, it would still carry the warmth of Thor's skin and he shivers. “That's plenty of choices, don't you think?”

 

And just like that, he's gone, the bathroom door closing behind him. Loki is left standing there, seething, but then he hears the shower start a minute later and almost gasps when he realizes that this is his chance. Fuck the clothes. He throws on the white shorts and camisole, tugging the wool socks on in such a hurry that he almost trips. Then he dashes from the bedroom, frantically looking around. They hung their coats when they came in and Loki goes straight into the hallway, locating Thor's leather jacket. He dives into the pockets, searching for the car keys. Dammit. He goes between the pockets several times, increasingly frustrated, patting the whole jacket down. Nothing. _Fuck_. He tries to look around in the kitchen, every surface where Thor could have left them, but they’re not anywhere.

 

_His jeans._

 

Of course. He runs back to the bedroom, almost slipping as he whips around the corner. He reaches for the jeans that are crumpled in a heap on top of the chair where Thor piled his clothes. In exactly that moment, the shower turns off.

 

Loki freezes. He's running out of time.

 

He starts furiously looking through the pockets of Thor's jeans. He still has a chance. One front pocket, the other front pocket, back pocket-

 

There they are. Loki tugs the keys out and stares at them as they sit innocuously in his palm. His ticket to freedom. But it's too late. Thor is going to be coming out of the bathroom any second.

 

In the end, he does the only thing he can think of – he tosses the keys underneath the bed.

 

Then he realizes that he is standing in the middle of the room, panting and flushed. He’ll be busted if Thor finds him like that, so he tries to calm his breathing as he slowly walks over to get on the bed and crawls underneath the covers.

 

Thor is out of the bathroom in less than a minute, coming out in a cloud of steam, naked.

 

Loki averts his eyes. Just one night. Then he escapes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can check my blog and the tag I have for this fic and the humble graphics I make for it [here](http://thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if-this-is-hell).


	4. escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Sam](http://thorsicle.tumblr.com) for beta-reading!
> 
> Aah, exciting stuff, hopefully?

Thor walks past the bed and outside into the hallway still bare, apparently not bothered by the cold at all. Loki vaguely hears him adding more firewood into the hearth before he comes back. Yeah, definitely _not bothered_. His cock is intimidatingly big. Loki wishes he hadn't looked, but his eyes made that decision for him as his gaze slipped down Thor's sculpted stomach right to his hips.

 

Thor turned on a small lamp on the bedside table before switching the main light off and getting into bed with Loki. He scoots close immediately and pulls the covers down from Loki a bit, revealing his chest.

 

“Not so bad, huh?” Thor chuckles, running a finger across the sheer material of the camisole. Loki glances down. In his hurry to find the keys, he had stopped caring about the ridiculous outfit just wanting to cover himself with _something_ , but now he's growing self-conscious. The tip of Thor's index finger is drawing random, lazy patterns across his chest. Loki sees now that his nipples are visible through the material and he shuts his eyes when Thor's finger sweeps over one. _God_.

 

“These clothes are _disgusting_ ,” he stresses again. “Did they belong to your grandma or something?”

 

Thor laughs, teasing his nipple with a nail. “No, but they are old. You're right about that. I didn't have much time to prepare considering how chance our meeting was.”

 

He leans for a kiss then, a lingering press of lips to Loki's cheek and then to his lips as well. Loki is suffers through it quietly, but he panics when Thor presses closer, pulling Loki into his arms. He starts to struggle, but Thor just tightens his grip and cups his cheek.

 

“Hey, _hey_ ,” Thor whispers, cooing at him. “Settle down. We're just going to sleep.”

 

It's not much of an improvement to what Loki thought would be happening because Thor makes himself comfortable, turning the lamp off and plunging the room into complete darkness. He shifts so that Loki's head is pillowed on his arm with the other arm wrapped securely around Loki's waist. They’re pressed together head to toe and Loki stares into the darkness unseeingly for a moment.

 

This is really happening to him. He is being made to snuggle with this guy, wearing grandma's panties.

 

The fact that he is asleep in a minute and sleeps like a baby the whole night only adds insult to the injury.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, something is different. _Wrong_.

 

He wakes up, confused, to almost the same picture like the previous morning; Thor watching him. He is not smiling this time and the first thing that comes to Loki's mind is that Thor figured out Loki took the car keys.

 

“Morning, sweetheart,” Thor tells him, swiping a thumb over Loki's lips. Loki just waits. Surely if he's angry, he will let Loki know. He's not going to give himself away by asking suspicious questions.

 

Thor says nothing about the keys though and instead lets out a long sigh, stroking Loki's cheek. “You're so beautiful.”

 

Loki gulps. Not angry, then. This is almost worse. “I bet you tell that to all the guys you kidnap.”

 

Thor's brows draw together and he looks pained for a moment. “I know why you’re saying that all the time, trust me, I do. I just wish you would understand that you played your part. You gave yourself to me. You said yes. You came to my bed, undressed.”

 

Loki's throat tightens for a moment and he can't speak, unable to process the fierce anger and the paralyzing frustration he feels at hearing those words. “How dare you blame me-”

 

“It's not blame, Loki,” Thor interrupts him, tapping at his lips with the tip of his finger. “It's _playing a part_. That's the way it's always had to be.”

 

“I don't fucking get you. You're delusional,” Loki hisses. Thor lets out another sigh and leans to nuzzle into Loki's neck for a moment.

 

“You'll understand soon. Who knows, maybe you’ll even change your mind about me. Eventually.”

 

He says it with such a wry smile that Loki shivers. He doesn't like the sound of that. And he can't stop looking at Thor, trying to identify what it is that’s so different about him. What could have possibly changed so much overnight?

 

“Come on, I’ll make you breakfast.”

 

Once he gets up, it hits Loki how cold the room really is. Thor kept him warm through the night, but now goosebumps rise all over his body and he wraps his arms around himself. The sheer material of what he's wearing offers next to no protection.

 

“What am I supposed to wear? It's freezing in here!” he calls after Thor.

 

“Come sit by the hearth and I will find you something.”

 

“Or you could just give me my clothes back,” he murmurs but follows Thor into the living room. Thor strokes the fire and adds more wood. Loki sits down on the bear skin and Thor wraps a blanket from the couch around him. He stares into the flames as Thor shuffles around. Could he have imagined this happening to him two, three weeks ago? And if he knew, would he have left?

 

Thor is back soon and Loki twists around, mouth falling open when he sees him.

 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.”

 

Thor is holding up some... _thing_ for Loki's inspection. It's long and shapeless and what the hell _is_ it?

 

“What is wrong with you? Did you rob a costume store?”

 

“I told you, it's just very old clothing,” Thor frowns, letting his hands drop down. Loki follows the flap of the _habit_. It's dark green with embroidery at the edges. “Just think of it like a bathrobe.”

 

“Well, thanks ever so much,” Loki snaps and gets up, quickly pulling the thing from Thor's hands. It has the same musty smell that the underwear does, except it's much heavier as this fabric is thicker. But it's soft and, more importantly, warm enough, so Loki reluctantly slips it over his head.

 

He looks down at himself. “I look like I'm cosplaying Harry Potter.”

 

Thor blinks and nods. The slightly vacant look in his eyes makes Loki suspicious though. Does he not know what that is? Who is this guy?

 

He’s left to ponder it as Thor walks off to make breakfast. Loki hovers for a moment and then decides Thor is sufficiently busy to not notice him.

 

He goes back into the bedroom and pauses. He needs to cover his tracks a little, so even though it makes him nervous, he goes to the bathroom first, relieving himself and brushing his teeth. He has a perfectly good reason to be here now. He doesn't need to worry though – Thor doesn't come to investigate and once he’s back in the bedroom he drops to his knees by the bed, heart pounding in his chest. The keys are still there and Loki snatches them up, closing his fist around them. Then he gets up and shrugs the long sleeves of the habit down to cover his hands.

 

_Perfect_.

 

There's one last thing to figure out.

 

Thor is moving around the kitchen. Loki can't just slip past him.

 

He stands, uncertain, trying to figure out what to do, until Thor notices him.

 

“Come on, I've made you tea,” he smiles.

 

And maybe, for once in his shitty life, luck is on Loki's side.

 

His eyes fall on the steaming mug that Thor has placed on the counter. He moves without thinking. The keys dig into the palm of his left hand as he squeezes them in his fist. One, two, three steps and he is at the counter, reaching for the mug with his right hand, Thor is turning towards him, opening his mouth to say something and-

 

Loki _tosses_ the steaming hot contents of the mug in his face.

 

He doesn't stay to make sure he hit his target, but based on Thor's shout, he _did_. He runs for the door and throws it open. The cold air almost floors him, but he rushes across the porch and down the stairs. His feet, clad only in socks, are immediately wet and freezing as he stumbles through the snow, but the pickup is within reach. Loki unlocks it and clambers into the driver seat, shaking with so much panic his mind is almost blank. It takes him several tries to jam the keys into the ignition, and with every second that passes he’s certain that Thor will come running and pull him out of-

 

The engine starts and Loki switches from park to drive, wrapping his hands around the steering wheel and pressing on the gas. The car lurches forward roughly, but it _works_ , he is moving. He makes a turn without trouble, taking deep shaky breaths, and starts driving down the snowy road that they came in on.

 

One minute passes, then two and he is still going.

 

His foot is cold and the pedal is digging into the sole, but he keeps a steady pressure on it and feels confident enough behind the wheel. It's nothing. He’ll just keep going. Thor can't catch up. Ever so slowly he begins to uncoil, straightening in the seat, his breath evening out.

 

There’s a sharp turn ahead and he slows fractionally. _Easy does it_. The phrase comes into his head unbidden and he almost smiles. It would do him no good to wrap the pickup around a tree. He focuses on following the path of the road, turning the wheel slowly...

 

He screams.

 

Thor is _right there_ , standing in the middle of the road, arms crossed, legs spread wide. Loki doesn't know what he does – whether he steps on the gas or on the brakes – but the next moment he’s flying forward and his face smashes into the steering wheel. He leans back in a daze and then jerks, startled to the core. Thor is in front of the car, leaning on it – no, not leaning…. _Pushing_.

 

_That's not possible_.

 

But it is and Loki starts to shake like a leaf as Thor straightens up and approaches the driver side of the car. He tears the door open and Loki curls in on himself, paralyzed.

 

“Move. To the other seat.”

 

He scrambles to obey and in less than a minute, Thor is backing the car up until he can make a turn and they are heading back to the cabin.

 

Loki can't believe how badly he fucked up. He starts to sob dryly – there are no tears coming but his chest feels like it's in a vice grip and when he tries to breathe he only manages to wheeze and gulp on air.

 

His head is pounding and the pain is making him hazy. He had hit his chin on the steering wheel and it triggered one of the worst headaches he's ever head. If Thor hits him when they get back, he thinks he might die.

 

The ride back is laughably short – he barely got anywhere. When they stop, he feels like he can't move so he doesn't. Thor opens the door and pulls him out, hoisting Loki up in his arms and carrying him back inside.

 

Loki chances a glance at him.

 

Immediately he wishes he hadn't. There are red splotches over Thor's face, especially around his eyes. The damaged skin looks puffy and tender, but the burns don't appear to be serious – the tea must not have been as hot as Loki thought. But how did Thor get to the road? How did he stop the car? He must have known some shortcut. The road goes down the mountain in twists and turns, but on foot, one can go straight down, but that still doesn't explain what happened when they collided.

 

Once inside, Thor puts Loki down in front of the hearth. He starts pulling his habit up and Loki yelps, trying to scramble back, but Thor grabs him by the ankles, growling wordlessly and Loki stills. The only thing that Thor does though is to pull off his freezing, wet socks and toss them to the side.

 

Loki watches him numbly as he slowly lowers his legs down. His headache is so terrible he wouldn’t be surprised to realize that he is _seeing things_ , because he is certainly seeing something odd now. Thor's hands look deformed somehow. Misshapen.

 

Broken?

 

Impossible. He should’ve been in so much pain then that he wouldn’t have been able to touch anything, much less carry Loki in his arms.

 

Thor still hadn't said a word and to say that Loki was worried about his reaction would be a gross understatement. He gets up and Loki follows his movements with his eyes, wishing distantly he could get his bearings together and figure out something to do to fix this.

 

But nothing comes to him and all he can do is watch as Thor walks into the kitchen. Seconds later, Loki hears a drawer being opened and then cluttering as he looks for something.

 

He has a _knife_.

 

“Thor,” he whimpers as Thor comes back. “No, no, please, I'm sorry.”

 

“Hush,” Thor tells him. “I wanted to give you time to adjust, maybe get used to me, but I see that's not working.”

 

The tears do come then, blurring Loki's vision and dripping down his cheeks. He wants to get up and _run_ , but he can't – his head is spinning and then Thor is right there, kneeling over him and pushing him down. Loki finds himself prone on his back, with Thor straddling his chest.

 

The terror he feels is suffocating.

 

“Please, don't,” he sobs. Thor grabs his hand, pulling it up to his own chest. He moves his grip from Loki's wrist upwards, squeezing Loki's fingers. Loki watches, dazed and not understanding what he’s seeing as Thor raises the knife and pricks the soft pad of Loki's index finger.

 

He puts the finger into his mouth, and Loki flinches as Thor's hot, soft lips close around the digit, his tongue wetly laving over the cut. It _hurts_.

 

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

 

Thor just keeps sucking lightly. He is staring Loki down with a hard expression, his blue eyes sparkling in the firelight. The flames dance in the reflection and Loki can't look away.

 

Blue, red, blue.

 

His world spins and then everything goes dark.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heee! What do you think?  
> [My tag for the fic](http://thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if-this-is-hell).


	5. rite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Here we go.  
> Um, proceed with caution maybe? Everything is revealed now, and it's not exactly fun.  
> Thanks to [Sam](http://thorsicle.tumblr.com) for beta-reading.

There is cold pressure on his chin and someone is stroking his hair. He blinks, opening his eyes and wincing even though the light in the room is dimmed. It takes him a moment to get his bearings and when he does, he automatically raises his hand to look at his finger. There’s a band-aid over the cut. He's lying on the couch, his head pillowed on Thor's lap. Thor stops caressing him when he notices Loki is awake, but his fingers stay tangled in his hair and he keeps pressing something cold to his bruised chin.

 

Loki steels himself and looks up at Thor. His face is as it was before, bearded but unblemished. There's not a sign of the burns. He reaches up to take Thor's hand in his and pulls it from where it was resting in his hair and into his line of vision. It's a little rough and calloused, but perfectly unharmed.

 

He strokes his thumb over the warm skin, thinking.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

Hearing Thor speak makes him shiver even though he is quiet and his tone is gentle. He lets go of Thor's hand and wraps his arms around himself.

 

“My head hurts,” he says eventually after swallowing emptily several times.

 

“I thought it might. Here, sit up. Slowly.”

 

Thor takes him by the shoulders and lightly hoists him up. Loki tucks his feet underneath himself and leans on the back of the couch. His head is spinning and throbbing and he closes his eyes, willing the white spots that dance across his vision to go away. A blanket is being tucked around him and then Thor is taking his hand and pressing something smooth and warm into it.

 

Loki reluctantly opens his eyes. A mug.

 

He looks at Thor, startled, remembering what he did. Their eyes meet and Loki feels completely unguarded at that moment, certain that his fear and guilt is written plainly over his face. And Thor is  _so_ close.

 

Then Thor cracks a small smile, nodding towards the mug in Loki's hands. “Drink it this time.”

 

Loki is stunned into complete stillness.  _That's it?_ Thor is just going to joke about the fact that Loki tossed hot tea into his face?

 

If Loki actually really did it, that is. Or did he just imagine it? Thor's face certainly looks like he only dreamt the whole thing up.

 

Wait. And his hands? But Loki's finger-

 

The  _blood_ .

 

“Hey, now.” Thor's voice reaches him as though from afar and Loki shakes his head, trying to get rid of the fog clouding his brain. “Stop straining yourself. You hit your head, you're a little confused.”

 

“Why did you cut me?” Loki blurts out, barely hearing what Thor is saying to him.

 

“Drink,” Thor insists, pushing the mug towards Loki's mouth. The contents smell weird but Loki takes a sip anyway. It almost makes him retch – it's bitter and stinky and weirdly thick.

 

“What is this? And what’s going on?” he asks shakily, feeling the tears come back.

 

“It will make you feel better. Drink.” Thor's tone is firm, brooking no argument, and Loki forces down several more mouthfuls of the foul drink. Surprisingly, he immediately starts feeling a little better. The headache is dulled and his thoughts marginally clearer.

 

First things first.

 

“Are you some kind of a vampire?”

 

He expects Thor to laugh, and he  _does_ , chuckling a bit as he leans back on the couch. “No. Not that.”

 

_Not that_ .

 

Loki closes his eyes. He'd been so certain before that his situation was as fucked up as it was ever going to get.

 

“I want to lie down,” he murmurs, keeping his eyes closed. This is not happening. He's going to rest and when he wakes up, he will find out that he crashed the pick-up into a tree and his kidnapper is just run-of-the-mill crazy.

 

Thor pries the mug from his hands and sets it on the floor before pulling Loki into his lap again. Loki stretches out on the couch, clinging to the blanket. Thor's jeans are a little rough underneath his cheek, but Thor's fingers are stroking his hair again, lulling him right back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

When he wakes up, there's a pillow under his head instead of Thor's thigh. He’s sweaty and his lips are parched. When he opens his eyes, he can see why. Not only there are two blankets tucked around him, but the fire in the hearth is blazing high and warming up the room to the point of discomfort. He watches the orange and white heat of the burning logs for a while.

 

He stays motionless, willing his mind to remain blank, until Thor comes to the room, squatting next to the couch and smoothing Loki's hair from his forehead.

 

“Feeling better?”

 

Loki just nods, looking past Thor into the hearth.

 

“Good.” Thor sighs, silently watching Loki for a moment before speaking again. “You can't do that. If you try to escape again, I will punish you.”

 

Loki tucks his knees up to his chest, hiding his face in his pillow.

 

“Loki?”

 

He doesn't react. Tears are pooling in the corners of his eyes and soaking into the pillow. He is exhausted. He doesn't want to think. He doesn't want any of this to be happening.

 

Thor keeps talking and stroking his hair. “We're really far from civilization, sweetheart. You were barefoot, not dressed properly, you had no provisions. You don't know where we are. You'd only get lost, run out of gas and freeze to death.”

 

“Yeah, because you care about my wellbeing so much,” Loki murmurs into the pillow bitterly once he realizes what Thor is saying.

 

“I do, actually,” Thor says and Loki can hear the smile in his voice. Fuck him.

 

“Because if I died, you'd have to find yourself another _virgin,_ ” Loki continues viciously.

 

“That's true.” Thor pauses. “But I also care about you.”

 

“You don't care about anyone,” Loki insists, so angry that he stops hiding his face in the pillow and turns his head to glare at Thor. “I bet someone else wore the clothes you gave me before. And you _killed_ them.”

 

Thor  _growls_ and his hand tightens in Loki's hair. “I did not.”

 

Loki's anger is swiftly replaced with fear. Thor is leaning over him, menacing and frowning. The flames are at his back, darkening his face, but his eyes are bright with anger, swallowing all the light in the room.

 

“You're hurting me,” Loki says quietly and Thor eases his hand out of Loki's hair right away.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“I want to know what you are,” Loki announces when Thor sighs, rubbing his eyes and dropping back to sit on the floor next to the couch.

 

“I don't use any words for what I am,” Thor replies smoothly and then goes on, not giving Loki a chance to protest. “You will rest some more now and then I will have need of you. So save your strength.”

 

“ _Need of me_?” Loki repeats, grimacing. “What does that mean? Sex?”

 

“Not really, no. But you're here for a purpose and it's high time we got to it.” Thor's voice is cold and hard and Loki curls more tightly into himself as he hears it. No arguing there, that much is obvious to him.

 

He drinks some more of that disgusting tea – or whatever it actually is – and it helps with his headache immensely. He dozes, slipping in and out of sleep. He suspects that the drink had something to do with that as well. His fear of what's coming seems to be locked in the back of his mind, allowing him to rest despite everything that's happening.

 

Several hours later, he becomes more lucid and realizes how quiet the house is. He hears nothing apart from the crackling of the fire. Where did Thor go?

 

He struggles to sit up, touching his chin gingerly. It's very tender, but not as painful as he would expect.

 

When Thor comes into the living room, he has a very obvious air of excitement about him and Loki's stomach clenches with nerves. That can't be good for him.

 

“Can you walk?” Thor asks, offering Loki a hand. Loki takes it without thinking and pulls himself to his feet. He stands, gouging if he's going to keel over or no.

 

“I'm okay,” he decides eventually and Thor nods.

 

“This way.”

 

They go down the hallway, Loki walking in front of Thor as Thor steers him in the right direction with light hands on his shoulders. They come to a door that Loki hadn’t noticed before – it's so small that both he and Thor need to bend down to go through.

 

“Watch your step,” Thor murmurs into his ear, suddenly very close and Loki shivers. There are stairs leading down and he starts descending them slowly, squinting into the darkness.

 

Excellent. His kidnapper is taking him into a dark basement. This day couldn't get any better.

 

It's also terribly cold down here. The hearth has vents that distribute the heat through the whole house, but that's clearly not the case here.

 

Thor didn't turn on any lights as they stepped onto the staircase, but Loki's eyes adjust and he realizes that there is some light down there.

 

In several seconds, he realizes what he's seeing and he stops cold.

 

“No.”

 

Thor is pressed to his back, gently pushing him to make him take the last two steps.

 

“No,” Loki repeats, trying to turn around and push back, escape back into the warmth of the cabin, but Thor is an unmoving wall in his path.

 

The basement is made of stone. At it's center stands an  _altar_ made of black stone and all around the walls are tables with lit candles and endless clutter of things that Loki doesn't want to look at too closely. Mortars, knives, strips of cloth, bundles of dried herbs...

 

“I won't hurt you,” Thor is saying, gripping Loki's shoulders. “ _Loki._ Calm yourself. Nothing is going to happen to you.” 

 

“Why should I believe you?” Loki asks, voice jumping. He is still furtively pushing at Thor's chest, wanting desperately to get past him and _flee_.

 

“Have I lied to you? Have I broken any promises? Hm? Have I hurt you so far?”

 

Loki stays quiet, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to breathe. In and out.

 

“What are you going to do?” he whispers.

 

“Undress.”

 

“No, I-”

 

“Loki, you will obey me. That is your place. You are mine. I have no need and no desire to hurt you, but you must do as I say.”

 

Loki's head snaps back and he stares up at Thor. The difference between their heights is bigger than usual as Thor is still standing one step above him. Thor's voice, his tone, even his accent is different and Loki is very conscious of the obvious determination that Thor is radiating. Loki has to do what he says.

 

Trembling, he steps down into the basement fully and reaches for the hem of his habit with trembling hands. It makes sense now, he thinks. He looks perfectly in place wearing this clothing here, in this basement.

 

The camisole is sticking to him with quickly cooling sweat and Thor helps him when he struggles to take it off. The shorts are next and he stands completely naked, shivering.

 

“Lie down, on your back.”

 

_Sheep to the slaughter._

 

Is he really going to willingly climb onto the altar? Let himself be what... sacrificed?

 

He remembers how reverent Thor had sounded when he’d discovered Loki never slept with anyone. Is this the end of his journey?

 

He moves as though in a dream, placing his hands on the stone altar and rising one knee to the edge to haul himself up.

 

It feels like it's a slab of  _ice_ , not stone, and he whimpers. Then he gasps in shock as he lowers himself onto his back. It's so  _cold_ .

 

Thor has undressed too and he heads towards one of the tables before stopping and glancing at Loki over his shoulder. “I'm going to pick up a knife, but it's for me, not for you, so please stay put.”

 

A bubble of hysterical laughter escapes Loki's throat. The situation would be ridiculous if it wasn't so completely terrifying. “Thanks for the warning.”

 

The claim does nothing to calm his nerves when Thor approaches, a knife – an antique looking dagger, actually – in his hand. To Loki's surprise and shock, Thor hauls himself up onto the altar as well, straddling Loki, knees at each side of Loki's hips though he stays up, none of his weight coming down to rest on Loki, for which he is distantly grateful. Not only is he not getting crushed by Thor's weight, but they are also barely touching, in spite of the intimateness of the position.

 

Thor gives him something he thinks is supposed to be a reassuring nod and then he brings the knife to his forearm and  _cuts_ .

 

“Aah,” Loki gasps as Thor's hot blood drips onto his stomach. Thor puts the knife away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Loki's lips. It's long and lingering and Loki feels Thor's breath quickening before he pulls away.

 

He sits back and reaches into the wound with two fingers of his other hand. It's actually  _steaming_ in the coldness of the room and he can only watch, shocked and mesmerized as Thor begins to draw shapes on Loki’s skin. He starts at his collarbone, working his way down to his belly. Everywhere Thor's blood is smeared burns lightly and soon Loki can't even feel the cold.

 

His legs are painted on next, with Thor scooting back to reach as far back as Loki's ankles. Reluctantly, Loki raises his head and looks at the markings. He doesn't recognize them at all, though if he had to guess, he would say they are runes of some kind. His breathing is becoming harsh and in the effort to distract himself from the tingling, burning sensation that is starting to overwhelm him, he looks up at Thor.

 

A mistake.

 

When they met, Loki had noted that Thor was handsome, of course, but the man kneeling over him is more than that – Thor has transformed somehow. He is golden in the candle light, his long hair falling around his face in perfect waves, and his eyes bright. Too bright.

 

Despite the fact that all he's done is draw on Loki in his own blood, he is  _hard_ . Loki shivers, earning himself a warning growl as the movement makes Thor's finger slip, and stares at Thor's cock. It's rising from the v of his hips, completely erect, almost parallel to Thor's belly. He has to turn his head to the side and look away when Thor straddles him again, his hips so near Loki's, as he draws more shapes on Loki's arms.

 

Waves of hot and cold come over Loki. It's hard for him to breathe as the atmosphere in the room changes, the air becoming heavy and charged as Thor draws the last of the runes. Loki feels like  _nothing_ – vulnerable and sprawled between Thor's thick thighs, too scared to look him in the face.

 

He twitches in fear when Thor wraps his blood streaked hand around his own cock.

 

He is stroking himself, making no move to touch Loki. Loki stares – Thor has large hands and long fingers, but even so there's barely any overlap when he closes his fist around himself.

 

He wants to look away, but he can't. The movement of Thor's hand is hypnotizing, his fist gliding over his cock up and down, smooth and firm. Loki is fighting to breathe, gasping for air as Thor tightens his fist. It's getting worse and worse until finally Thor moans and comes, thick ropes of steaming come splash all over Loki's torso. A bit hits his chin and he closes his eyes, shuddering.

 

He snaps them open again when Thor begins to speak.

 

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise him, but it does – he's speaking in a language Loki doesn't know, something deep and throaty. He begins in barely a whisper and then his voice rises until it's resonating through the room, and Loki fights the urge to cover his ears. 

 

When his chanting reaches its peak, Thor swipes his fingers through the mess of blood and come on Loki's chest, gathering as much of it as he can. Loki only manages to let out a muffled protest when Thor grabs his face with his other hand and forces his mouth open, pressing his dripping fingers past Loki's lips.

 

Loki gags at first but Thor is holding him in place resolutely, wiping his fingers on Loki's tongue. The stern, angry look he is giving Loki melts any remaining defenses he has and he wraps his lips around Thor's fingers and starts sucking, swallowing the thick, iron-tasting mixture.

 

The second Loki's throat bobs and the blood and semen go down, Thor throws his head back. The candles around them flare, painting the walls with deep shadows. It only lasts a moment before the room dims, and Thor lowers his head, breathing hard. His eyes are closed and when he opens them, they are blazing bright blue.

 

Loki has seen his shadow reflected on the wall.

 

Thor had said he didn't have any words for what he is, but Loki does.

 

Loki has a word for what Thor is.

 

He's a _demon_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)) [Tag for the fic on my blog](http://thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if-this-is-hell), this time featuring demon Thor. Disappointed? Excited? Surprised?


	6. aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the incredible feedback!
> 
> And thanks so much to [Sam](http://thorsicle.tumblr.com) for beta-reading. We've had an awesome streak of churning out a chapter every day, though I'm afraid we're going to slow down a bit now.

Thor carries him upstairs.

 

Loki stays still, feeling like a rag-doll in Thor's arms. It's only when they come out of the basement and the warmer air washes over him that he starts to shiver. By the time the shower has warmed and Thor lifts him into the bathtub he’s shaking violently, teeth chattering. He can't feel his fingers and he spends long minutes just trying to move them as Thor runs a washcloth all over his body.

 

Seeing the rust colored water swirling down the drain makes him gag and he spits repeatedly, trying to get the taste of blood and semen from his mouth.

 

It's not working and he sobs. Thor is stroking a hand up and down his back, shushing him softly, which only makes Loki cry harder.

 

He quiets down when Thor gets into the tub with him. He plugs the drain and sits behind Loki, his chest pressed to Loki's back, legs on each side of Loki's hips. Loki finds himself enveloped in a tight embrace and he slowly realizes that Thor is murmuring things to him, trying to calm him.

 

The heat of the bathwater helps with the shock eventually and he gradually comes back to himself.

 

Thor nuzzles and kisses his neck. “Better?”

 

“I guess,” he mumbles and Thor hums in approval. His hands are beginning to stray, dragging the tips of his fingers over Loki's chest and stomach. He doesn't have it in him to flinch away from the touch – it's not bothering him nearly as much as it should.

 

He sighs and does his best to relax. He doesn't realize that in doing so, he has leaned back, accepting Thor's embrace rather than just withstanding it until a shiver runs down his spine. What is _that_? Some sort of a sound is reverberating through him and he looks over his shoulder to question Thor. He just finds him giving Loki a languid, happy smile. His eyes are still glowing, but his pupils are blown so wide they're almost black.

 

Something clicks into place.

 

He's _purring_.

 

At least Loki is pretty sure that's what the low, vibrating sound emitting from Thor's throat is. Then Thor rubs his bearded cheek over Loki's smooth one in a very cat-like manner. Yup, definitely purring.

 

“You've done so well,” Thor whispers to him, kissing his cheek. Loki's stomach clenches. “You were perfect.”

 

“I'm hungry and my head is starting to hurt again,” he complains because what's there to say? _Thanks, glad to help you with your demonic ritual_?

 

“Just a second, sweetheart,” Thor murmurs into his neck before latching on the skin there with his lips and sucking gently. Then he kisses the entirety of Loki's neck, lapping at the drops of water there and nipping him lightly until Loki squirms. Thor's erection is very obviously pressed to his back and the kisses are starting to stir something completely unwelcome in him.

 

Eventually Thor agrees to get out of the bath and helps Loki stand as he’s still feeling pretty wobbly.

 

He scrubs himself dry with a towel, hoping that all of the blood is gone from his skin. He glances over to where Thor is drying himself casually. There’s nothing but a faint pink line where he'd cut himself.

 

“What happened when you stopped the pickup?” he asks. Thor turns to him, eyebrows raised in confusion. Loki tries to clarify. It's not easy because he's not very sure what he's asking either. “Your hands were weird.”

 

“Oh. Yes, they were broken,” Thor shrugs. Loki's towel slips from his hands.

 

“What?”

 

“It won’t happen to me now that I've had you,” Thor continues casually, “but I've been without a human for too long. It ‘s weakened me.”

 

Loki slowly sits down on the closed toilet lid, feeling his legs wouldn't be able to support him.

 

Thor kneels in front of him, taking his hand in his own and running over the wet band-aid on Loki's finger. Loki looks away, unnerved by how inhuman Thor's eyes are.

 

“I should give you a fresh one,” Thor says, reaching into the cabinet next to them and pulling out a first aid kid. “I'm sorry about that, really. I just needed to heal. I wouldn't do something so crude to you otherwise.”

 

Loki watches silently as Thor wraps the fresh band-aid over the digit even though the cut has already sealed.

 

“You said you weren’t a vampire, but that's very vampire-y to me.”

 

“I have no intention of drinking your blood,” Thor says resolutely, lifting Loki's hand once he's apparently satisfied with his work, and presses a kiss to his palm.

 

“You fed me yours,” Loki challenges.

 

Vampire, demon, what does he care? Still, there is a part of him that doesn't shy away from all this, a part that doesn't want to crawl into bed and just pretend he didn't see what he saw – what he is seeing at this very moment, because Thor's eyes are still glowing – and that part wants to know everything, wants to understand every step of the way. How did he find himself here? What's going to happen next?

 

If he could strip away all of the fear, it would be rather thrilling.

 

“Just this once,” Thor says. “It's just another step on the path we started when you came to me.”

 

“I didn't want that,” Loki feels the need to say. “I didn't know I was starting anything.”

 

Thor frowns and turns his head to the side. He looks far away for a moment, lost in thought. “Nobody does, sweetheart.”

 

Afterwards Thor brings him yet another odd piece of clothing, though this time Loki doesn't see the point in protesting – in fact, he’s determined to find out where the clothing Thor insists on giving him is stored and make some picks himself.

 

He shakes the red robe out and finds that it's cut very much like a regular bathrobe would be with a sash to tie it, so he puts it on along with a pair of thick and soft socks.

 

Thor stays naked and Loki quietly sits at the kitchen table as he cooks another pasta dish.

 

It's so... normal. An hour ago, Thor was bursting with something that Loki can't call anything other than _magic_ and now he's here, boiling spaghetti.

 

He shivers when he remembers the glimpse of Thor's shadow and the way the air was unbreathable and thick. It was no illusion, that's for sure.

 

“You look dead on your feet,” Thor said, putting down a steaming plate piled with pasta in front of Loki. “Eat and then you can go to sleep.”

 

Loki stabs a fork into it. “I've had a shitty day in case you didn't notice.”

 

“It's going to get better, I promise.”

 

Loki looks straight at Thor, forcing himself to ignore the weird pang in the pit of his stomach he feels at the sight of him.

 

“How?”

 

“It will. I've done this before, remember?” Thor tries to smile, but Loki is sure it sounds weak even to him.

 

He sluggishly eats everything on his plate. Roll spaghetti on the fork, chew, swallow, repeat.

 

A demon. He was kidnapped by a _demon_.

 

_This could only fucking happen to_ me _._

 

* * *

 

In the morning, he decides to throw a wrench in any plans Thor might have by refusing to get out of bed.

 

He stubbornly wraps the covers around himself and ducks his head down, just groaning wordlessly when Thor offers him breakfast.

 

He won't go anywhere and do anything. If Thor wants him somewhere, he will have to carry him there.

 

In hindsight, he should have known this was a bad idea.

 

Thor is kneeling on the bed next to him – still naked which Loki is starting to suspect this won't be changing any time soon – head cocked as he looks down at the firm cocoon Loki has made out of himself and his blankets. Then, to Loki's displeasure, he smiles widely and, _fuck_ , starts purring again.

 

“You want to stay in bed?”

 

Loki's eyes snap open because Thor sounds way too excited. He tries to come up with a retort, but Thor is already peeling the covers back and inserting himself right next to Loki before tucking them both in again.

 

Loki freezes. He’s only wearing some weird flimsy pajama bottom-like thing that does nothing to stop the intense feeling of having Thor's hot skin pressed to him. Thor's eyes have dulled a little overnight, but not completely, and this up close Loki is mesmerized by the subtle glow which is only accentuated by the way Thor's lips are stretched into a smile, the skin around his eyes crinkling.

 

The annoying thing is that he looks more like an angel than a demon.

 

Which he is not, obviously. His hardening cock is pressed to Loki's hip.

 

Thor takes him by the chin gently, looking at the fading bruise there, and Loki remembers how quickly it healed. His finger, too. “Did you put anything gross into that thing you made me drink?”

 

“Not in the way that you think,” Thor says still smiling. “But some of the herbs I used are hardly something you'd sprinkle on your meal.”

 

“But it was magic,” Loki continues. “The potion or whatever. Because nothing I could get in the pharmacy would make me heal just like that. Poof. Bruise gone.”

 

He should know. He once shoplifted iron and magnesium supplements and they did big fat nothing for him.

 

“If you want to think about it that way, then yes,” Thor shrugs, kissing his chin. Loki wants to ask more questions – it feels like he has an endless supply after what he's seen – but Thor cuts him off before he can voice any, pressing their lips together. He pulls back after a while, frowning.

 

“Kiss me back.”

 

“I don't know how.”

 

_You don't know how? What happened to 'I don't want to'?_

 

Thor presses the pad of his finger to the seam of Loki's lips. “Relax your lips. Use your tongue if you want.”

 

He bends back down to Loki, pressing a peck to his upper lip, then to his lower before sweeping the tip of his tongue just between.

 

Then he pauses, just a breath away, their lips almost touching but not quite. Loki takes the hint and repeats what Thor did. He feels clumsy at first, but gets the hang of it soon enough, figuring out how to press his lips to Thor's, when to pucker them, when to let his tongue peek out and explore. He scoots closer, tilting his head to the side for better access. Thor's tongue laves over his own and he makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat.

 

Then his brain catches up to what he's doing. He wrenches himself backward, gasping. He doesn't get very far, tangled in covers as he is, and he starts trying to push Thor away, panicking.

 

“What did you do to me?”

 

“What?” Thor frowns, eyes full of concern. Loki stills, trying to figure out the best way to get out of this bed _now_. Why did he just do that? Why did he kiss Thor? Worse, why did he try and learn how to kiss him _properly_?

 

“You're making me do this, you're messing with my head!” he accuses, shaken. That would just be fucking grand, if Thor turned him into some kind of a zombie who does everything that he wants.

 

But then Thor's frown changes into the most smug expression Loki has ever seen anyone wear and his stomach drops.

 

“Your mind is your own, sweetheart,” Thor says, grinning. He shifts, pulling Loki resolutely back into his arms and pressing his thigh between Loki's legs. Loki can feel his cock, hot and hard, just inches away from his own. Thor kisses him, hungry and clearly vibrating with excitement before he moves lower, briefly sucking at Loki's neck and dropping down to wrap his lips around Loki's nipple.

 

Loki sucks in a breath and his back arches into it. He doesn't want this. He knows he doesn't – he's been fearing this moment ever since Thor took him – no, earlier even. He's been fearing it since he climbed into Thor's truck.

 

“Thor, _please_.”

 

Thor raises his head, eyes glowing. His mouth is shiny and red, the corners of his lips lifted in a smile. “It'll feel good. I won't hurt you.”

 

Loki closes his eyes, dropping his head on the pillow and breathing hard.

 

Believing Thor is a huge leap of faith.

 

He can't bring himself to say anything or even just nod. He simply lies still until Thor carefully lowers his mouth back to his chest. He’s just brushing his lips over one of Loki's nipples and after a while, Loki opens his eyes to look at him. Thor holds his gaze as he puckers his lips and starts sucking, laving the nub with his tongue.

 

It's getting increasingly difficult for him to breathe steadily.

 

_I'm going to get hard_ , he realizes. The thought almost makes him reconsider his compliance and to start struggling again.

 

Ever so slowly, Thor peels the covers from him. The room is not overly warm, but Thor's hands seem to be everywhere where that his skin is exposed, transferring heat. Continuing to stroke every inch of Loki's body he can reach, Thor kisses his way down Loki's chest, nuzzling into his belly button until Loki can't suppress a giggle and swats at him.

 

All trace of humor leaves him when Thor scoots even lower and presses Loki's thighs up so they rest on his shoulders. He swallows dryly. The bottoms he’s wearing go down to mid-calf, but they are made of sheer white material and do nothing to cover him. He is faced with the reality of his half hard cock pressing against the white fabric and with the little damp spot he's making near the seam. And that's what Thor goes for first. He sucks the cloth into his mouth, unmistakably sealing his lips right over the wet spot.

 

“Are you... are you going to-” he gulps, unable to bring himself to continue. Thor noses at his cock and then _licks_ the whole length through the fabric.

 

“Yes.”

 

Loki presses the heel of his palm to his mouth, head spinning. He should be concerned about how quickly Thor wore him down, but this... this feels incredible. Even more so when Thor makes him lift his hips and tugs the pajama bottoms down his legs, tossing them to the side. There's no teasing and he can only stare down his chest and watch his cock disappear into Thor's mouth. Thor's eyes are glowing brightly and he has the audacity to wink at Loki before he swallows him deeper. His mouth is hot, impossibly so, but Loki supposes that shouldn't surprise him.

 

Then it hits him – he’s getting his cock sucked by a demon. A demon that has kidnapped him. A demon that has performed some creepy blood ritual with him. And all he's doing is sprawling naked, panting for it.

 

He arches his back, scrambling his feet to get some leverage, trying to get away. Thor catches him by the hips in a steel grip, pushing him down into the mattress with his head bobbing over Loki's crotch as he drags Loki's cock over his tongue and down his throat.

 

Loki knows fuck all about religion; his parents didn't care and he never really paid much attention at school when things like that came up, but something is coming to him clearly now.

 

The devil _seduces_.

 

He has never felt anything like this. The quick jerk-offs he's had when he was feeling safe enough to try and stick a hand down his pants at night in his bed don't hold a candle to the incredible wet and smooth feeling of Thor's mouth.

 

He knows he doesn't have a chance; what good is it trying to escape when deep down he doesn't even _want_ to?

 

He slams his thighs closed around Thor's head and comes.

 

It's too much; he twists to the side as much as he can with Thor still holding him down, and he tries to hide his face in the pillow. Thor is swallowing around him and he keeps at it, his tongue teasing the head of Loki's cock until he whimpers and begins struggling again. It's too sensitive and he is coming down from the rush of his arousal, a horrible feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

 

“Stop, please,” he asks when Thor shows no signs of letting his cock go, still suckling on it even as it goes soft.

 

To his relief and surprise, Thor listens to him. Though he doesn't quite let him go, instead pressing open mouthed kisses all over Loki's abdomen and thighs.

 

Loki keeps his eyes firmly closed. There is something in the air – the same charge that he felt down in the basement and he is sure that if he looked at Thor now, he would see something terrible. He finally manages to wiggle from Thor's grasp and turns onto his stomach, hugging the pillow and curling in on himself.

 

“Can I be alone now?” he sniffs.

 

Thor kisses his hip and Loki hears him sigh.

 

“Of course, sweetheart.”

 

 


	7. sustenance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tidbits about Thor, and Loki being himself. Hopefully I don't need to keep repeating this, but consent issues like whoa.
> 
> Thanks to Sam for beta-reading <3

 

Loki ventures out of the bedroom eventually when he gets hungry.

 

He wraps the red bathrobe tightly around himself and tiptoes out of the bedroom. He spots Thor through the kitchen window – he’s standing outside on the porch and Loki hesitates only for a moment before heading for the front door. There he slips into his boots and reaches for Thor's jacket, disregarding his own coat as too thin.

 

He opens the door and joins Thor quietly.

 

It's beautiful outside. It must be nearing midday and the snow is white and shimmery in the bright daylight. It's very cold, but the air smells fresh with evergreen and that pure scent of winter.

 

All in all, it's peaceful.

 

Thor is dressed for once; maybe the freezing temperatures outside are too much even for his hot demon blood. He's wearing a red flannel shirt and blue jeans, looking perfectly in place here – if it were not for the contents of the basement, this would be a simple cabin and he the innocuous owner.

 

Loki leans against the railing of the porch, taking an almost painfully deep breath of the fresh fair.

 

Whatever Thor may seem like, he is most certainly not, and if Loki is going to survive, he needs to start asking some questions. He won't get anywhere if he's completely ignorant. It's hard to pick a place to start, but he tries – basics are basics, right?

 

“How long have you – how old are you?”

 

Thor sighs, still looking out into the woods. “About two thousand years. Maybe a little less.”

 

The answer shakes him through the core. He's already started to come to terms with what Thor is, but this makes it seem more real.

 

“Oh god.”

 

“It's a long time, I know,” Thor replies wistfully. Loki's legs are beginning to get cold, but it feels too good out here to even consider going back inside.

 

“Are you alright?” Thor asks turning towards him. His eyes are back to their normal blue, though the color of them is a little too vivid to be natural.

 

Loki considers the question. There's no easy answer and while he suspects Thor is referring to what happened in the morning, he can't stop thinking about what actually led him – them – here.

 

“You said we started some kind of a journey,” he says eventually. “That I played a part in something. What was it? What’s the journey?”

 

“Are you sure you want to know?” Thor asks quietly and Loki turns away from him, carefully walking down the stairs leading from the porch towards the forest on the other side of the road.

 

“Yeah, I do,” he says, not bothering to turn around, wading through the snow until he is between the trees.

 

Thor follows him.

 

“You agreed to become mine. Since that moment it was my right to take you. And keep you.”

 

Loki takes a deep breath and reaches out to tug at a low hanging evergreen branch. Some of the snow dusts down into his hands and makes him shiver. He remembers how awed Thor had been when he pointed out Loki was naked in his bed all of his volition.

 

All he was trying to do was not _get beat up before getting fucked_ and look where it got him.

 

“How many people have you _had_ like this?”

 

He closes his eyes, waiting for the horrible number. Hundreds, surely, or more. Two thousand years is a long time.

 

“Forty seven.”

 

“ _What_?” he sucks in a breath, doing some math quickly in his head. The number isn’t low but for that amount of time it's not exactly huge. Either Thor goes long periods of time without a person or...

 

His line of though is interrupted by Thor taking him by the elbow.

 

“Come on, come back. We can go for a walk later, but you are not dressed enough to be out here.”

 

He lets Thor guide him back inside, stunned by what he has learned. Still deep in thought, he pays next to no attention as Thor adds more wood to the fire and turns to him. He snaps out it only when Thor starts pushing the bathrobe down his shoulders. He jumps back, jerking it back in place, and holds it securely around himself.

 

“I'm hungry,” he hisses. Thor pauses and they stare at each other. Loki refuses to back down. Clearly Thor will do what he wants, but Loki _demands_ to be fed.

 

“Fine,” Thor says finally, looking away. Loki would almost feel victorious if he couldn't sense the annoyance emanating from Thor.

 

Thor ruffles through the kitchen cabinets with a little too much unnecessary force if the loud clutter is anything to go by. Loki looks over his shoulder briefly. All that they have are non-perishables, pasta and cans and other instant foods. So far, he's just been glad to _eat_ in the first place, and to eat something hot and savory was an extra bonus, but he wonders if he's going to get sick of it at some point. And how long does Thor have the cabin stocked for anyway?

 

This morning he gets instant porridge and he shrugs. There are pieces of dry strawberry and banana in it, and it's sprinkled with cinnamon. Good enough.

 

“Is there coffee?” he asks after his first spoonful. Thor is leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

 

He lets out a sigh and turns to add some more water into the kettle. Loki has his coffee a minute later and he looks at the black, steaming liquid with his eyebrows raised.

 

“Creamer and sugar?”

 

Two cubes of sugar are dumped into his coffee so hard that a third of it splashes out, landing all over the table.

 

“No creamer,” Thor growls.

 

Loki remembers that the only time he saw Thor eat was the first night, and even so he gave most of his portion to Loki.

 

“You don't have to eat, do you?” he muses out loud. He instantly regrets it when Thor smirks at him, eyes flashing.

 

“Not food, no.”

 

Loki feels a flush creeping up his neck and spilling all over his face. Dammit. He walked right into that one. The idea that Thor lives on- on what they did that morning is simultaneously terrifying and intriguing.

 

He eats the porridge slowly, very much aware of what's coming when he finishes his breakfast. The coffee is hot and he blows at it lazily before taking a sip. Slowly, Thor begins to gravitate from his place at the counter, moving to the center of the kitchen and towards the table until he is very much looming over Loki. There are two tiny scoops of porridge left on Loki's plate and he eats one. Thor makes a move, reaching for him but Loki leans back and holds up his hand wordlessly before pointing at the remaining porridge.

 

“I'm not done yet.”

 

He's probably crazy to be pissing Thor off like this.

 

But he can't help it – he never could, really. He remembers so many times when he was just so _sick_ of everything and just kept talking back to his father, uncaring of what it got him. That's what Laufey hated the most about him, out of the long, long list – his damned mouth.

 

He holds Thor's gaze as he slowly puts the last of the porridge into his mouth, licking the spoon. The second it hits the plate Thor is by his side, pulling him from the chair.

 

He doesn't get a chance to point out that he didn't finish his coffee.

 

Thor drags him over to the couch, tugging the ties of the bathrobe open and flinging it off to the side. He bends Loki over the back of the couch, so far that Loki's upper body is almost hanging off. He kneels on the cushions, freezing in fear when Thor knees his legs apart.

 

He definitely shouldn't have pissed him off.

 

But then he hears Thor take a long, deep breath and the hands that are holding him down and pressing him into the couch grow gentler. Thor pets his back in broad strokes, sliding down. He grabs Loki by the hips and makes him arch his back a little. Loki burrows his face into his arms. He's so damn _exposed_.

 

He listens desperately for the sound of Thor's zipper – or anything really that would tell him what precisely is going to happen.

 

Whatever he was expecting, this is not it. He turns around, shocked to see Thor kneeling on the ground behind him as he hooks both arms around Loki's legs, keeping them spread. Loki whips his head back to stare forward when the first gust of Thor's breath hits the backs of his thighs, and then Thor is kissing him there, his beard scraping the soft skin lightly.

 

It's impossible to ignore – Thor's tongue, hot and slippery, his slightly cooler lips that nip and suck at his thighs, his buttocks, the constant shiver-inducing drag of Thor's whiskers. He briefly thinks about just delving deep into some memory, about trying to block all this out, but not only is what he feels physically too intense for that, he also finds himself _curious_.

 

He gasps when Thor pulls his cheeks apart a little and he flushes, mortified. He's pretty sure what Thor is going to do, but it still seems kind of unreal – this can't be happening, right?

 

But it is. Thor's tongue sweeps up and down his crack and starts swirling _right over_ his hole.

 

He can't even process what it feels like – he knows it's wet and hot and his stomach is tingling with it, but that's as far as he gets. After several minutes of Thor simply licking him lightly, he summons enough courage to turn around again and look.

 

Thor must feel him shifting because he looks up then. Loki is startled but unsurprised to see his eyes glowing again. He doesn't stop what he's doing and Loki only really sees the upper part of his face, because the lower is _buried in Loki's ass_ and Loki gasps unwittingly.

 

As if this this could get any worse, he can actually _feel_ Thor smiling.

 

The intensity of Thor's movements builds and Loki finds himself squirming and trying to close his legs when the tip of Thor's tongue actually slips in. It's nowhere near as intrusive as Thor's finger had been, and it's not even painful, but the feeling is still a bit too much. He makes a sound of protest and Thor withdraws slightly, just flicking the tip of his tongue over the entrance in a soothing manner.

 

Loki almost relaxes into it, but then Thor stops, kissing his way over Loki's perineum, mouthing at his balls and scooting even lower to take Loki's cock into his mouth. He sucks until Loki hardens and the angle becomes unpleasant – then he just resumes licking at Loki's hole and reaches around to stroke him slowly.

 

Loki lets out a shaky breath. It feels _good_ , dammit.

 

Where before the feeling of Thor's tongue was odd and novel, combined with Thor's hand gliding so confidently over his cock, it's actually becoming pleasurable and he resigns himself to the fact that Thor is going to make him come again.

 

And that's precisely what Thor does – he becomes messy and quite insistent with his tongue, lapping eagerly, kissing and even sucking at Loki's hole as his hand uncompromisingly works, making Loki clench his teeth in an attempt to stay silent. He doesn't succeed – when he comes he presses his palm against his mouth but a moan still escapes him.

 

Thor is still nuzzling him and as Loki collapses onto the couch, drained and ashamed, he notices that Thor's breaths are coming in quick pants. Then his hand is gone and his mouth too. Loki slides ungracefully from the back of the couch and slumps against the armrest instead, bringing his knees up.

 

Thor is licking his hand, eyes glowing brightly and Loki briefly closes his eyes when he realizes that it's his come that Thor is lapping up from his palm and fingers.

 

He growls a little when he sees Loki attempting to cover himself and presses his knees apart again with his free hand.

 

Loki is scared. It was better in bed when he could at least think about escaping underneath the covers and Thor was all purring and gentle with him; and it was better just before too, with his back turned to Thor and receiving attentions that were clearly meant to please him, but this? He is vulnerable on his back, completely bare, legs hitched up and kept there by Thor's hot, strong hand. When he is done cleaning all the semen from his hand, he undoes his belt and Loki shivers.

 

“Shh,” Thor tells him but the sound lacks the usual gentle tone he usually takes with Loki when he's trying to calm him.

 

Thor kneels on the couch, sitting back and pulling Loki's thighs over his own. His cock is hard and Thor wraps his hand around it, spreading the saliva and last traces of Loki's come over the length of it. Loki has no leverage to fight and even if he did he is paralyzed, staring as Thor jerks himself off roughly. If he decides to fuck Loki, there's no way he can escape it. He can't even begin to imagine how painful that would surely be – if not impossible. Thor seems way too huge to ever be able to fit.

 

Mercifully, Thor simply keeps working himself and Loki remembers the ritual – perhaps this will be the same thing.

 

And it _is_ , mostly. Thor comes with a low groan, aiming his cock between Loki's legs. Loki jerks as the hot come hits him right along his crack. Thor squeezes his cock at the base and brings the tip to Loki's hole, pumping every last drop of his come over it and smearing it around.

 

Loki is certain that this is it, they're done, and he relaxes. He was wound so tight that simply breathing out and loosening his muscles makes his legs fall further apart and he accidentally nudges the tip of Thor's cock with the base of his buttock. Thor makes a half-purr, half-growl sound and smiles at Loki widely, kissing his knee in approval before reaching between them and rubbing his fingers through the mess in Loki's crack. Loki swallows emptily when the fingers rub over his hole, the feeling of it slick and warm.

 

“Don't tense up,” Thor orders him, his voice little more than a resonating growl – it's like when he's like this, he communicates strictly in vibrations.

 

Loki does his best not to and the tip of Thor's middle finger pushes into him. Thor doesn't go further than the first digit, but Loki is very conscious of the way the movement is dragging Thor's come _inside_ of him. Thor teases and plays with his hole for a while, slipping just the tiniest bit in and out, feeling the slightly swollen rim.

 

Finally he lets up with a long sigh, bending over to press a kiss to Loki's abdomen.

 

“Beautiful.”

 


	8. past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Sam for cheerleading and beta-reading.
> 
> Don't forget to check out [my tag](http://thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if-this-is-hell) for this fic on my blog, because apart from the graphics I egoistically make for myself, there's also some amazing art to be found there.

He's been staring at the wall for almost twenty minutes now. Thor is spooning him, semi-hard cock pressed to Loki's ass, separated only by the nightie Loki is wearing. He’s resigned himself to calling it just that – a nightie – because there isn’t a pinch of anything masculine about it. Thor is awake for sure and he must know that Loki is too, but they are still, just breathing as the cold, sluggish winter sun rises in the sky. 

 

After all, Loki has resigned himself to a lot of things.

 

First of all, they have a  _routine_ now and that's a tough pill to swallow – the acceptance that the way things are is normal for him now.

 

Every day he eats what Thor cooks for him from their provisions. Thor's own food is, well,  _Loki_ . He eats him out every day, usually more than once, and to his great annoyance Loki is not only growing used to the feeling of Thor's tongue in his hole, he is starting to like it as well. Thor always pairs the action with a very skilled handjob, wringing a palmful of come from Loki every time he buries his face between Loki's ass cheeks.

 

What he is definitely not growing used to, though, is the fact that after this, Thor comes all over Loki's crotch and ass and forbids him to wash it off for at least a couple of hours.

 

“You're gross. You're a... a _beast_ ,” Loki spat at him when Thor first caught him by the wrist as Loki made for the bathroom and shook his head.

 

“I am,” Thor just agreed, smiling a little but the look in his eyes was steely and Loki had to obey. He hates the feeling of drying, flaking come between his legs and as if the physical discomfort wasn't enough, he also hates what it signifies.

 

Marking. Owning.

 

Behind him Thor wiggles, tightening his arms around Loki and nosing into his hair.

 

“Is this going to be forever?” Loki asks. He ignores when Thor raises his head and leans over to look at Loki's face. “Are we going to just be stuck in here until you suck me dry?”

 

For some reason that makes Thor laugh and Loki frowns.

 

“I'm sorry,” Thor chuckles. “No, we won't be here forever. And I won't suck you dry.”

 

Loki perks up after the reply and shifts in Thor's arms to look up at him. His beard is quite bushy; he trimmed it a couple of days ago and Loki complained that it scratched him too much, so he let it get longer and softer.

 

“Where will we go?”

 

“We'll see.”

 

“But somewhere nicer than this?”

 

Thor taps him on the nose and then steals a quick kiss. “You're so spoiled.”

 

Any intrigue that Loki was feeling disappears at hearing those words and he pushes away from Thor. That hits a little too close to home. He was never spoiled a day in his life.

 

“Fuck you, Thor,” he mumbles and tries to get out of the bed. The damned nightie is in his way – it's as soft and flimsy as all of the other stuff that he wears, but it's very long and he's not used that. He finds himself pulled back onto the mattress and Thor is looming over him, stretching his body above Loki's.

 

“What is it?”

 

“What's what?” Loki scowls up at him.

 

“Why are you mad?”

 

Loki opens and closes his mouth in indignant shock. He's sure he looks like a fish.

 

“You called me _spoiled_.”

 

Thor grins and Loki groans internally. He knows that look. “That's not a bad thing, sweetheart. I want to spoil you.”

 

“Yeah and you're doing such a great job. Kidnapping. Bloody rituals. Keeping me in this god forsaken cabin with nothing to do.”

 

“We have things to do,” Thor says, voice muffled because he's already pushing his face into Loki's crotch.

 

“Of course we do,” Loki mutters and then clamps his mouth shut to keep the moans in.

 

* * *

 

A couple of days later, Thor has him on his belly on the bear rug in front of the always-blazing hearth. A couch cushion is underneath Loki's hips and he humps it, unable to help himself. Thor has been at it for hours it seems, lying between Loki's legs and holding him firmly open, working him with his tongue in a maddening rhythm.

 

He huffs into the rug when the tip of Thor's tongue penetrates him. He's been getting used to that too. As pleasurable as it was to have the flat of Thor's tongue gliding over the opening, he was not as sure about when it pushed in. But as with everything, Thor wore him down. He wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead and tries to relax as the familiar pressure transforms into a slight burn.

 

Thor then grabs him by the hips and hoists him up. Loki gets his knees underneath himself while still pressing his upper body to the floor and he sighs. He feels exhausted already, dehydrated and overheated, but when Thor gets like this there's no reasoning with him. Thor's tongue is still in him, thrusting lightly and Loki frowns. 

 

Wait.

 

This feeling... that doesn't seem plausible.

 

The glide of Thor's tongue seems to go on for too long – in and out, Loki feels the familiar wet, slippery pressure that opens him up, but it's too intense.

 

“What are you doing?” he stutters out, but Thor's only reply is to wrap a hand around Loki and take his cock in hand.

 

Loki has already come  _twice_ that day. He's perfectly capable of something like that; he may not have too much experience masturbating, but he knows what’s said about teenage boys. The air is thickening in a way that still scares him. It doesn't happen always when Thor- when they do this, but it happens often enough to still unnerve him.

 

And then it's like Thor lit a spark inside of him.

 

He shouts and jerks forward. Thor was clearly anticipating it because his hold on Loki is almost painfully tight and he pulls him back onto his face, squeezing his cock in the way that Loki can't seem to resist.

 

But something happened  _inside_ him. Thor's tongue – and it is his tongue, it can't be anything else – has reached some place deep, which should not be possible. He's had Thor's face buried in his ass enough times now to know how it works.

 

Then Thor does it again and this time Loki feels the pressure as his tongue strains and licks at the place, pressing and making Loki see white. His toes tingle and he gasps, trying to muffle the sound in the bear rug. His cock is already twitching in Thor's grasp and he feels desperate to come despite having done so not very long ago. The pressure inside is like an itch that needs to be scratched, a tingle that goes through his entire body, making his legs quiver.

 

“Thor,” he tries though he doesn't know what he's asking. Thor takes it as a sign to continue – of course he does. He thumbs the tip of Loki's cock and Loki bucks into his hand, chasing after more. All traces of control have been wiped from him. But it's not enough – Thor starts purring again and the sound resonates through Loki's core, striking right at the already sensitive place that Thor is teasing with the tip of his tongue. Loki comes and it feels like no orgasm he's ever had. It spreads through his belly and into his limbs, wrecking him with long, deep pulses.

 

He is vaguely aware of something happening but the next time he really is there, he is on his back and Thor is licking long stripe up his thigh and then sucking at his hip.

 

Loki pushes at his head weakly. “Why did you do that?”

 

Thor's face is tight with concentration and he moves to follow a tiny trace of cum with his tongue, licking it off the side of Loki's cock.

 

“What do you mean?” he murmurs in reply, clearly looking for more drops he has missed.

 

“That _thing_ with your tongue.”

 

Thor finally looks up at him, smirking. “Didn't you like it?”

 

Loki takes a shaky breath. He feels like he's on the verge of tears. He's not quite sure why it’s happening now but the tightly coiled bundle of tension in him is bursting. “Why do you make me enjoy it? You get off on that, huh? It's not enough that you do what you want, you have to make me your damn  _accomplice_ .”

 

“Loki,” Thor shakes his head, getting up on all four from his sprawl between Loki's legs. “I don't just _get off_ on it. I feed on it. I know what morals humans constantly hammer into each other and the sooner you forget, the happier you will be. I'll never stop making you feel pleasure.”

 

It probably shouldn't calm Loki down, nor make him feel better.

 

But it does.

 

He blinks up at Thor who is staring him down, eyes blazing. The shadow he casts, red and flickering as the flames in the fire jump and pop is too deep and has shapes that Loki doesn't want to see, so he focuses on Thor's face, at the slightly baffled look on his face.

 

Tears do slip out of the corners of Loki's eyes and into his hair, but they come from a very different place than before. Tentatively, he reaches out to cup Thor's face.

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Thor murmurs, tilting his head to press a kiss to Loki's knuckles. “Don't be sad.”

 

Loki hiccups a laugh and wraps his arms around Thor's neck.

 

Thor kisses him on the cheek, leaning on his elbows. Loki knows he can stay like this for hours; keeping most of his weight off Loki while still really lying on top of him. It seems to be a favorite position of Thor's.

 

“Why are you upset that it felt good?”

 

Loki sighs deeply, pushing some of Thor's hair away from his face. “You kidnapped me. You... I had no idea what I did. I just wanted to get out of the cold. And now I'm here. You know it's not right.”

 

“I know. I know.” Thor gets up and fetches the blanket from the couch. He lies down next to Loki and wraps them both up. “So, what would you be doing if you weren't here?”

 

Loki flinches. He doesn't like where this is going because deep down he knows the truth.

 

“That's not fair,” he mumbles. Thor strokes his cheek.

 

“Why not? Just tell me.”

 

“Of course I have no fucking idea of what I'd be doing.” Loki scowls and raises his shoulder to shield himself from Thor a little bit. “I ran away from home. I wanted to get far away... get to a city, _any_ city...”

 

“Why did you run away?”

 

“I don't want to talk about this anymore. You're not the only one who knows how to play twenty questions, okay? So tell me, what the hell did you do with your tongue?”

 

Thor chuckles. “It got longer.”

 

Loki suspected as much, but he still groans when he hears the confirmation. “Why now? Why not before?”

 

“I'm still getting stronger. Believe it or not, changing the mass of your body is something that requires a lot of power,” Thor tells him dryly.

 

Loki's first reaction was to say he hopes Thor won't do the same with his dick, but he stops himself in time. “So if you need a... a human... and you still need to get stronger now, when's the last time you had one?”

 

He bites his tongue and waits for Thor to reply.

 

“About fifty years ago.”

 

That sounds like a forever and Loki gapes, shocked. But something is not right. He counts the decades and thinks about the fashion through the years. The things Thor gave me are much older than this.

 

“But that's not... the clothes I'm wearing weren't theirs, right?” he asks tentatively. While he still believes he is not the first human of Thor's that wore them, it would be a relief to know that nobody occupied them for centuries.

 

“No. We spent most of our time together naked. Or in jean shorts. We met at a hippie commune.”

 

Loki can imagine it – Thor, tanned and blond, his hair up in a bun, a daisy behind his ear, wearing a flannel shirt and showing off his thighs, grinning at some shy flower child.

 

“Who was it?”

 

“Her name was Jane.” Thor sounds wistful. Lost in thought.

 

“And was she happy? With you?” It's an incredibly scary question to ask and Loki barely gets it past his parched lips. He has the vision of Thor still bright and clear in his head – the sun, the flowers, smoking weed, seducing some willowy young girl. Surely he had no trouble getting her to agree, but what then? Did she just accept it? Accept what he was, accept that she was his?

 

And if she did? Could anyone blame Loki if he did too?

 

“She was. All of our glorious twenty years.”

 

Twenty years. So long and so short at the same time.

 

“But you didn't kill her?” Loki whispers. Deep down he already knows that this is not what Thor does, but the fear is still there.

 

“No,” Thor says with a bit too much force. “Cancer did.”

 

“Oh,” Loki intones lamely, watching the strained set of Thor's jaw. It upsets him, to remember her death, Loki realizes. “I'm sorry?”

 

Thor's eyes snap to him in surprise and he rumbles out a nervous laugh. “Thank you.”

 

Thor doesn't come on him that evening, just strokes himself underneath the blanket, his face pressed into Loki's neck, breathing hard.

 

They don't mention it.

 

 


	9. changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thanks to Sam for beta-reading and encouragement <3

“We're going downstairs,” Thor announces and Loki puts his coffee mug down slowly.

 

“What for?” he asks carefully.

 

“No blood this time,” Thor smiles. “Come on.”

 

It's a non-answer and Loki rolls his eyes, reluctantly getting up. He's scared, obviously, but not as much as he might have been once. There's been an oddly calm atmosphere in the cabin these past days, and an almost pleasant routine. He's come to no harm and Thor has been a bit more lenient with what he wants from him, which Loki's sense of hygiene greatly appreciates.

 

They head into the basement. Loki follows Thor, shivering as the door is opened and nothing but darkness looms ahead, but he walks down the stairs anyway, holding on to Thor's shoulder when he fears he might stumble.

 

He then stands awkwardly in the middle of the completely dark room until a sizzle of a lit match can be heard and Thor lights the first candle before making his way all around the room, illuminating it.

 

“Do you really need those or is it just for show?” Loki asks, watching the dozens of tiny lights flickering in the cold. He's been wondering about that. 

 

“A fire is an element. It does serve a purpose,” Thor replies vaguely.

 

“Shouldn't... rituals be more a thing that humans do to summon _your kind_? Why do you have to do them?”

 

Thor flashes him a sharp grin. “Magic performed by humans doesn't work. It's all just stories they made up to feel safer.”

 

“Lovely.”

 

So he really has no defenses. Granted, Thor could be lying – of course he wouldn't tell his captive human how to defeat him, especially since Loki has already proven that he doesn't shy away from doing Thor physical harm.

 

“Come on. Undress and get up.” Thor pats the surface of the stone altar and Loki eyes it in disgust. “On all fours.”

 

“Are you- will you-” he hesitates, tucking his clothes closer to himself. He feels colder than ever and now without the distraction of asking questions or watching Thor light the room, reality sinks back in.

 

Altar. Ritual. Virgin.

 

So much fun.

 

“No,” Thor insists. “You have nothing to be afraid of, this will be quick and painless.”

 

That's the only reassurance he can take from this and he inches out of the robe, shorts, and camisole he's wearing. He's already shivering and the altar is as cold as he remembers, but at least this time it's not his whole body pressed to it. The uneven surface is hurting his knees though and he hopes Thor will hurry.

 

No such luck. Thor stands at one of the tables and grinds some herbs in a mortar. With nothing else to do, Loki observes him, sees the bounce in his step when he walks to get yet another addition to whatever he's “brewing”. He's very excited about what he's about to do and Loki doesn't find that one bit reassuring. Eventually, Thor pours some oil from a dark, glass bottle into a bowl and adds the herbs, stirring. The scent is already in the air and Loki sniffs, finding it inoffensive. Even nice.

 

Thor quickly undresses, tossing down his flannel shirt and unzipping his jeans. Loki flinches briefly when Thor hauls himself up onto the altar and kneels behind Loki. He feels exposed like that, with Thor inching his way between Loki's legs, making him spread them a little. He's been in a situation like this before, with nothing at all standing in the way of Thor just deciding to shove in.

 

But just as before, it doesn't happen. Instead, he yelps and shivers as Thor pours all the oil at the small of his back. It's very cold, having been standing in the freezing basement for god knows how long. Thor quickly warms it up by spreading it over Loki's ass. A lot of it dribbles into his crack and he squirms a little, dropping his head and trying to stave off the nerves that threaten to get him shaking. He just wishes he knew what was happening. It's so annoying how cryptic Thor is all the time.

 

Then Thor starts whispering in that old, foreign language and Loki fights the urge to bend his knees and elbows and curl up into a tight little ball as almost instantly the air thickens around them. Thor's finger is drawing shapes in the oil spread over Loki; likely the same runes he used before. Loki concentrates on breathing, fighting against the pressure that Thor's power is bringing down on the room. He's so focused on the inhales and exhales in fact that he almost misses it when Thor's finger gets tellingly close to his crack and then just slips in.

 

It startles him but it's not so bad – the oil is dripping everywhere, easing the way, and it's hardly the first time Thor did that to him, so he just takes a deep breath and tells himself he's fine. And he is – Thor withdraws and soon enough Loki can tell he's touching himself. He peeks over his shoulder to see Thor's eyes blazing – the light is so bright it almost hurts Loki's own eyes – and his hand wrapped around his own cock and tugging harshly.

 

He hisses when Thor's come hits the skin of his buttocks and the backs of his thighs – it's hot, and Loki is sure it's not just the contrast to the coldness of the basement. He's not imagining the burn of it and he's glad this particular feature of Thor's very intimidating anatomy is reserved only for the rituals.

 

Thor gathers the splattered come and pushes it down Loki's crack, fingering him again while chanting. Loki grits his teeth, annoyed at himself for the way his body is heating up despite the discomfort of the situation. He shifts a little and immediately regrets it because he has only impaled himself more thoroughly onto Thor's finger and he bites down a sound. Not a moan. Just a  _sound_ . 

 

The thickness of the air grows and grows, as does the volume of Thor's voice, and then just like that, both cut off. Loki sucks in a breath and Thor pulls his finger out, briefly caressing Loki's hole with his thumb and then he's jumping down from the altar, offering Loki a helping hand.

 

“That's it?” he asks, incredulous. After the mind-blowing and frightening experience of the first time he'd been down here, this feels like nothing.

 

“Mhmm,” Thor nods, helping him down. He's radiating heat and his eyes are so bright they are shining pure white.

 

“What was it for?” Loki demands to know.

 

“It's just one of the many steps tying us together. You'll see soon.”

 

He doesn't like the sound of that.

 

“Come, let's get into the shower.”

 

And that's exactly what they do. Thor is humming and looking so sickeningly happy, nuzzling Loki's face and neck and  _everything_ as they wait for the water to get hot. He doesn't stop even when they both get into the bathtub. He reaches down to thoroughly wash off the oil that is clinging to Loki's middle, using a soap when an oily sheen still remains on Loki's still even after Thor has kneaded and stroked the curve of Loki's ass to his apparent satisfaction. 

 

Loki relaxes. There's nothing bad or unpleasant about this; at most, he is a little unnerved by the energy Thor is so obviously vibrating with, that purring happiness, glowing eyes, hands that just won't quit groping him.

 

But then Thor levels him with the worst case of  _bedroom eyes_ and some of the uncertainty comes rushing back.

 

“Are we doing it tonight? Fucking?”

 

“Why are you so afraid of the idea? You've gotten used to other things.”

 

“Well because it's...” Loki splutters. What kind of a question is that? “It's kind of a big deal, you should know! The fact that I haven't done it matters a whole lot to you, doesn't it? And- it hurts!”

 

Thor's face grows serious immediately. “It won't hurt. Or it will hurt as little as possible, I promise. You'll be well prepared.”

 

“But _when_?”

 

This time Loki will not be deterred. He pulls himself out of Thor's reach, standing at the other end of the tub with his arms crossed, trying to ignore that he probably looks ridiculous. Wet and naked and frowning.

 

“In a couple of weeks,” Thor says eventually.

 

“Oh.” Now that he finally knows, he actually has no idea what to do with this information. It's still seems too soon – maybe he'll never really be okay with the idea, but at the same time... he's a little relieved. Perhaps he doesn't need to worry all that much. And then there's of course the small, tentative idea in the back of his mind that he might get out of here. That he will wake up one day to find some special supernatural fighting SWAT team rescuing him. Or that Thor will decide that no, he can't keep doing this – after all, the guy does seem to have some decency in him. Maybe it will win over this apparent need he has.

 

But that's a thought for another day, because Thor tugs him uncompromisingly into an embrace and goes back to peppering kisses over Loki's neck and shoulders.

 

“You smell so good,” he murmurs and Loki frowns at the shower tiles.

 

“I'm standing underneath a shower.”

 

Thor chuckles and pulls back. Loki squints up at him, trying to power through and learn to stay calm even when Thor's eyes are so bright. “My senses are a little better. And besides, it's a scent coming from deep within you. No amount of washing will get rid of it.”

 

Loki is still mulling this over as they get out of the shower and dry off. Thor said he was still getting stronger and there's still a bunch of things – powers – he can do that Loki has no idea about. He lets himself be pulled into bed. They are both naked and a little warm and damp from the shower. Thor is on his side, curled around Loki who is on his back, turning towards Thor just a little when the embrace becomes too tight for him to remain perfectly prone.

 

Loki thought this would be quick business; Thor is apparently still running high on performing the ritual, but when it comes to it, all he does is kiss Loki softly and run his hands up and down Loki's chest, flicking his nipples now and then. Loki focuses on the kiss – it's a very nice one, all lips brushing over lips, almost no tongue. He likes how it feels when Thor's whiskers tickle him a bit, and he enjoys the plump feeling of having his mouth pressed to another. And it's nice to be treated gently. Not that Thor is ever really rough, but he can be overwhelming. Demanding.

 

But not now. Combined with the reassurance that sex is still weeks away, Loki's nervousness slowly melts away and he cuddles up close, tilting his head and nipping at Thor's lower lip. The soft pad of Thor's thumb comes to rub as his nipple and he pulls back from the kiss, keeping his eyes closed and breathing against Thor's cheek. He never would have thought it could feel so nice.

 

Then his eyes fly open as the weirdest feeling makes itself known.

 

“Oh shit, wait a second,” he says, almost breathless because his first instinct is to suck in a breath and keep his belly as still as possible. What the fuck? There's something _wet_ between his ass cheeks.

 

“I need to go to the bathroom, I think there's some oil still-”

 

“No, that's okay,” Thor shakes his head and his arms tighten around Loki. He knows that feeling – it means that Thor really doesn't want him to go anywhere. But he's not even sure it's the oil Thor used that's leaking out of him – now he's pretty sure that that's not what it is – and several other terrible options come to mind. 

 

“Let me go,” he repeats, gulping. It doesn't seem to be getting worse, but the wetness is definitely still there. “I need to _go_.”

 

“No, you don't,” Thor says, emphasizing his words as though Loki is missing something. And then, to his utter horror, he reaches down. Loki tries to close his legs and struggle away, but as usual, it does him no good. Thor's fingers force their way between his clenched cheeks and he swipes through _it_ bringing his hand up for inspection. Clear slick is stretched over the fingers, glistening, with several strings hanging between Thor's index and middle finger.

 

“What is that?” Loki asks faintly though he starts to get the idea.

 

“That means,” Thor says smugly and kisses Loki's cheek, “that you're aroused.”

 

The realization hits him like an avalanche and the sheer horror of it gives him enough strength to catch Thor unaware and yank himself from his grasp. He runs for the bathroom, barely seeing where he's going, but he manages to get inside and slam the door, barring it with the under-sink cabinet.

 

“What the fuck did you do to me?” he screams at Thor through the door before frantically turning the shower on. He hops in while it's still cold, wanting nothing more than to scrub himself clean again. The sound of the shower muffles Thor's words – though not the insistent knocking on the door – and he ignores him, grabbing a washcloth and roughly rubbing it through his crack until it burns and there is no sign of the slick to be found.

 

By the time he is done, the hot water is completely depleted, having already run low after their shared shower and he is forced to get out as his mind clears a bit and he starts to feel the discomfort.

 

“Loki?” Thor calls through the door. Loki wraps every towel he finds on the rack around himself and sits down on the floor, hugging his knees.

 

“Leave me alone.”

 

“You'll get cold in there.”

 

“I don't fucking care.”

 

Thor falls silent then and Loki drops his forehead to his knees, exhaling shakily.

 

He's never been more mortified in his entire life. His skin is crawling as he recalls that wet, slick feeling and the total helplessness of it. Thor  _did_ this to him. He  _changed_ him. He's only been with Thor a couple of weeks and already he’s not – he’s not normal anymore. What will he look like in ten, twenty years? What more does Thor have in store for him?

 

His mind is spinning with all of his thoughts and soon it feels like he's drowning in them, going deeper and deeper into the spiral until nothing really makes sense. His chest is tight and he gasps for air, only to realize he's been sobbing all this time.

 

“Loki,” Thor is yelling from behind the door and ponding on it. Loki jerks up, blinking through the tears. His ears are ringing and he doesn't know how long he's been ignoring Thor. “Loki... I don't want to break the door, but I will if you don't come out.”

 

The threat in his voice is apparent and Loki freezes. He knows this tone – the  _barely hanging on to sanity, you are in so much trouble_ voice.

 

“Please wait,” he whispers and the banging immediately stops.

 

“I can wait,” Thor says firmly. “I'll let you stay there and calm down, but not when I hear you choking and barely breathing.”

 

“I'm okay,” he insists, focusing on taking deep breaths. In and out. He really doesn't want Thor to come smashing through the door. His mind has turned to the present – instead of agonizing over what happened and what will keep happening to him under Thor's _care_ , he becomes worried about what waits for him when he leaves the bathroom. He quickly decides that he'd rather get it over with and gets up on shaky legs, dragging the cabinet away from the door and slowly opening it. He steps through, not looking up. Not that he needs to – Thor is right there reaching for him. He flinches instinctively, but Thor only takes him by the shoulders, squeezing lightly.

 

“You're cold,” Thor scolds him quietly and takes him to the living room. The fire is blazing, as always, and Thor pulls Loki onto the couch with him, lying down with his head on the armrest and Loki stretched out on top of him. He settles two blankets over them and cups the back of Loki's head in his palm, stroking his hair lightly.

 

“Rest now. Then we can talk.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to visit [my tag of this fic](http://thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if-this-is-hell) for yet more incredible artwork!


	10. revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo another chapter so quickly? Yes! Mostly because [Sam](http://thorsicle.tumblr.com) is an awesome and quick beta.
> 
> Loki and readers get some answers.

“How could you do this to me? How could you do this to _anyone_?” Loki asks when he feels he can speak without his voice trembling too much. It just seems too inconceivable to him. Thor didn't ask him, he didn't even _warn_ him.

 

Thor pauses, his hand that is stroking Loki's hair coming to a halt.

 

“You are a very strange creature, Loki.”

 

“Me? _Strange_? There was nothing strange about me until you whispered your fancy little words and made me into a freak!”

 

“Now, that's harsh,” Thor tuts, sounding serious, but something suspiciously like humor underneath it. “Human females – women, that is, do the same thing.”

 

“But I'm a guy,” Loki protests, face burning. He didn't really think of that... he was never really interested in girls enough to give much though to their private parts. In theory, he realizes that it's true, but it's not their _asses_ that get slick.

 

“I think you'll grow to appreciate this change,” Thor says firmly. “I know that these days you can go around the corner to a grocery store and get lube, but I've lived through so many times when any kind of fat or oil was precious and rare. It's served me well to care for my charges this way.”

 

That's when Loki realizes that Thor's previous human was a woman, Jane. “So you didn't have to do all this with women? You got to fuck them quickly?”

 

“The preparations were shorter, yes, sometimes sadly too short.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Mostly because I was married to them,” Thor chuckles. “And they were ready to serve their husband.”

 

This is so intriguing it completely tears Loki out of his numb stupor and he clambers up to sit in Thor's lap, pulling a blanket around himself firmly and staring down at Thor. Thor seems relaxed, smiling up at Loki, hair all dark gold in the light of the fire.

 

“You _married_ them? How?”

 

Thor cocks his head, his expression growing a little more somber. “I pretended to be an aristocrat. Or a rich entrepreneur, later, when that came to style. I moved through the society, charmed the ladies, showed my wallet – figuratively – to the fathers... It was simpler for me back then than it is now.”

 

“Do you age?” Loki narrows his eyes at Thor.

 

“Very slowly. But-” Thor pauses and his visage shimmers, just for a second – it could be a trick of light, if Loki didn't know better. Thor's beard flashes silver in the light, as does his hair, and the gentle lines in his face, the ones that don't put him a day over thirty, deepen and carve his face into an intimidating but wise image. It's gone as soon as it came and Loki gapes. “I'm able to maintain whatever look I wish when I'm at my strength.”

 

“But this-” Loki gestures to Thor's face, “this is how you look, really.”

 

“Yes, it's my human form. I told you, I was weak, barely more than a human when you found your way to me.”

 

Loki thinks for a while. “Do you draw your strength from your... humans being virgins? Because if you do, why not let them stay that way?”

 

“I draw the most of my strength from the pleasure of a human bonded completely to me. To complete a bond so flawlessly, the human needs to be untouched by anyone but me,” Thor says, gesturing with his finger between Loki and himself. He's speaking smoothly, his tone calm and Loki takes it as an invitation to ask all the questions that have been rattling around in his head.

 

“And you need them to agree. To consent.”

 

He could slap himself for undressing back then, in the truck. For desperately telling Thor to fuck him. He's probably going to be regretting that for the rest of his life.

 

“Yes. And for hundreds of years, I was well served by the rules of precisely the religion that fears me. A marriage used to be a binding contract that promised the wife to the husband. She was to submit. It was never hard to tease a few more whispers from my brides when we got to the marital bed.”

 

Loki realizes that Thor likes talking about this, likes reminiscing, and to be honest, he himself is completely enraptured. Perhaps this information won't do him any good – in fact, it's already confirming his fears – but it remains fascinating nevertheless.

 

“But wouldn't they tell somebody who you were?” he asks. He and Thor are completely alone now, but if he could get help...

 

“I took care to have estates. Castles, houses out in the country and I would take my brides there right after the wedding. It was considered a show of power at first, romantic later. Only there would I begin the preparations. And besides... who would have believed them? A young lady wed by the order of her father, swearing that her new husband was a demon because of the things he does to her in bed? She would be laughed at at best, burned at the stake at worst.”

 

“A demon, huh?” Loki catches on.

 

“Their words,” Thor shrugs nonchalantly. “But... you'd be surprised how many of those seemingly good Christian girls became very quickly enraptured with what was happening. They were denied and suppressed their whole lives and they found freedom in my care. And pleasure.”

 

Loki squints, trying to imagine it. He watched The Tudors on HBO before his father had canceled their cable and he tries to place Thor into something like that. Dark hallways of a stone castle, plotting, long dresses... It's not exactly a stretch to imagine him strutting among all those nobles, towering over everyone, smiling sharply. He would turn the ladies' heads, that's for sure.

 

“And men?”

 

“There were wilder times,” Thor says grudgingly. “Or I got bored by the life at court. I traveled... and I either found places that were not as ashamed or places hidden enough that it didn't matter.”

 

“Like where?”

 

“I spent a lot of time in Rome and its provinces, especially the remote ones. I was young, of course,” Thor smiles and pauses and then his expression darkens. “Perhaps a little bit too careless in my youth.”

 

Loki is so awed he can't speak. _Ancient Rome_? His imagination is failing him and he can't put it together. Thor did say he was two thousand years old, but to actually imagine him in those times... it's impossible, much more so than the idea of Thor at a royal court just a couple of centuries ago.

 

“You'll be alright, you know,” Thor tells him pensively after they are both quiet for a while. “You're strong. You didn’t lose anything when I took you.”

 

“How the fuck would you know that?” Loki hisses, drawing back. He hates this turn in the conversation. He wants to know more – so much more – about the places Thor has seen and the times he has lived through. He craves the stories, the escape they surely would offer, but instead Thor floors him with a reminder of what his own situation is.

 

“You haven't mentioned your parents once,” Thor counters. “You didn't claim they would look for you. Didn't cry and beg me to return you to them. Several of my humans did precisely that, and they were rightfully married to me.”

 

“Well maybe I'm not as stupid as they were!” Loki snaps, defensive and angry. “And I see what you're about.”

 

“What's your mother's name?” Thor cocks his head, waiting for the answer with his eyes narrowed.

 

“Farbauti,” Loki says after a pause. The name feels weird on his tongue. As far as he can remember, there was never a pleasant reason to speak her name like that.

 

“And your father's?”

 

“Laufey.”

 

Thor nods. “You hate them.”

 

“I hate _him_ ,” Loki corrects. “Her, I... despise. Pity. I don't know.”

 

“Just remember that,” Thor shrugs.

 

“Why? I don't like my parents, so I should, what, _love_ you?”

 

Thor's eyes grow wide at the mention of love and Loki flushes, stumbling over his tongue to continue. “This isn't healthy. How can I be okay locked up in here?”

 

Thor is silent for a long while, searching for something in Loki's face. “You'll be alright,” he repeats, “because you're strong, and you've already shown affinity for this. The ritual we performed today came as one of the quickest I've ever done.”

 

“What do you mean, came quickest? Didn't you just decide today was the day?”

 

Thor laughs. “The ritual wasn't the only thing that gave you that ability you now have, the response to arousal. I had to... tease your body, shall we say, for a while. And you were quick to respond.”

 

Oh god. All that- Thor's _mouth_...

 

“By... licking me,” Loki says slowly.

 

“Yes,” Thor smiles widely and Loki can feel his thighs shifting where he is perched on top of them. Oh great, now his mind is back in the gutter.

 

“Where are you from? Were you born? Did you used to be human?” he fires rapidly, hoping to distract Thor.

 

Thor relaxes under him, but slips a hand through the folds of the blanket that Loki is wrapped in and starts stroking Loki's bare hip lightly. “Somewhere in northern Europe. I don't remember precisely... I also don't exactly know how I came to be.”

 

“Are there others?” Oh god, what if every bogeyman he ever saw on TV or read about in a book was real?

 

“Some,” Thor shrugs. “We don't really socialize. Through the times our numbers dwindled. I know it may not seem like it to you, but it's not easy to secure humans exactly the way I, or the others, need it.”

 

“Well, how great for you that I crawled right into your lair,” Loki mumbles, tugging the blanket closer around him.

 

“It is,” Thor chuckles and raises his knees, which sends Loki tumbling down. He gasps, trying to hold himself up by his hands, pressed to Thor's chest. Their crotches are now pressed flush together and Loki can feel Thor's cock pressing to the underside of his thigh. “It was almost like some sort of a _divine_ intervention.”

 

Thor laughs and Loki grits his teeth. Divine intervention, _fuck_ Thor. It's not funny. It's _not_ and he's not laughing along with Thor. Not at all.

 

“You could just fucking use the internet,” Loki grumbles, wanting to shift and get more comfortable but at the same time not give Thor any ideas. “Get a date. Easy.”

 

Thor sighs. “I'll let you in on a little secret. I hate the modern times.”

 

“Poor you,” Loki snorts. “I'm sure Roman orgies were the highlights of your youth.”

 

Thor grins. “They were nice. Then I had to flee because suspicions were raised about my stamina.”

 

“Oh shut up,” Loki groans, pushing at Thor's face with one hand to get the smug, self-congratulatory smile off his face. Thor catches him by the wrist and kisses his knuckles before nuzzling into his palm.

 

“We'll be staying here for a while,” Thor says after a while, serious again. “I don't want you to be unhappy. If you want to ask me questions, you can. I'll answer. I'll tell you all the stories you wish to hear. But I want you to start thinking about your role. You need to start accepting this.”

 

Loki hates that Thor is probably right. He glances over Thor's head and out of the window. It's dark out, but he knows how much snow is piled out there, the impenetrable forest, the biting cold... Thor said he used to marry his humans. That he pretended to be a noble. Surely those ladies, his wives, couldn't disappear for all their lives? And Thor _did_ say they wouldn't be staying in the cabin forever. Could his chance come then?

 

“Fine,” he says eventually, through the word feels rough in his mouth. “How?”

 

Thor doesn't reply, but instead shuffles so that he is sitting up. Loki is caught in his lap between his raised knees and his firm chest. He waits, but Thor says nothing and does nothing, only watches Loki, both of his arms lightly resting on Loki's hips, warming him even through the blanket.

 

After a minute or two, Loki catches on and sighs.

 

_Fine_.

 

It's not like he hasn't kissed Thor before, either at his request or simply by reciprocating when Thor kissed him. There's no use in pondering it for too long; he bends forward and presses his lips to Thor’s. A content growl vibrates through Thor and Loki jerks back, startled by the feeling of it.

 

He gives Thor a _look_ , meant to convey that he should get a grip, and kisses him again. This time Thor stays still and quiet as Loki hesitantly explores Thor's lips for several quiet minutes.

 

After that Thor reaches for him, hugging him closer and starts to slide a hand underneath Loki's blanket.

 

“No, wait,” Loki grabs him and tries to stop him. Thor does pause, but there's a sharpness in the way he watches Loki. Loki takes a deep breath and tries to explain. “I don't want to feel... _that_ tonight. Let me get used to the idea, okay?”

 

And before Thor has a chance to reply – and before he can lose his courage he instead wiggles so that Thor's cock slips free from underneath him and he wraps his fingers around it. Thor lets out a long, low moan and drops his head backward. Loki is frozen with nerves. Thor's cock is hard and _hot_ in his hand and worst of all, Loki's fingers can't even reach around the girth.

 

Thor doesn't rush him, though after a moment he raises his head again and levels Loki with the most intense gaze. Loki flushes under the scrutiny and finally makes his hand move. Up and down – it's not like doesn't know what to do. Tentatively he lets his palm glide upward until he can curl it around the head, which is slick with beading pre-come. He drags the slick downwards, spreading it around and then he tightens his grip and he speeds up. He has seen Thor be completely ruthless with himself so he doesn't think anything he does will be too rushed or too rough for him. There is no finesse in what he does, but Thor is hot and groaning underneath him.

 

As Thor clearly approaches his orgasm, Loki lets himself watch openly, eyes snapping between Thor's face and his cock. It's shocking to see the obvious pleasure, marked by the tense but blissful expression on his face and by the steely hardness in Loki's hand. Then Thor grunts, squeezing Loki's hip hard and comes. Thick ropes of come spill from the head in rushed pulses, landing on both of their laps and all over Loki's hand.

 

Thor thanks him with a kiss on the cheek and gently deposits him back on the couch before going to the kitchen to wet a rag and clean them both up. Loki watches as Thor drags the rag between his fingers to get rid of all the come. He feels fine. Not disgusted.

 

It would be a perfectly satisfactory end of a day that's gone from bad to worse if it were not for one small detail.

 

He didn't want Thor to touch him – didn't want the pleasure of it – so that he wouldn't get wet. And Thor had listened. Loki was the one who put his hands on Thor and made him come.

 

Which doesn't explain why, when he goes to lie down, exhausted from all the stress, there is slick wetness pooling between his cheeks.

 

 


	11. snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the wait. Thanks to Sam for support and beta-reading <3
> 
> Obviously, you might recognize Jane's story. It's taken from the comics. Somewhat.

A morning not long after _the_ ritual, Loki comes out of the bathroom to find his own jeans laid out on the bed. He gasps and hurries to pick them up, examining them. It's ridiculous to be so happy about a pair of worn, black skinny jeans that threaten to tear at the knees, but he _is_. After weeks of nothing but flimsy lingerie and nightwear, the only more substantial piece of clothing being his red bathrobe, this seems like heaven. And they were freshly washed, too.

 

Thor comes in, bringing the smell of coffee from the kitchen with him.

 

“You're giving them back?”

 

“The weather is nice. I thought we could start going for walks, and I don't have anything warm that would suit you.”

 

Loki groans happily, running his hands over the worn fabric.

 

After breakfast, they head out. Loki looks – and feels – a little ridiculous because his jeans are the only normal, or fitting, thing that he wears. He has several layers of white and pink camisoles on, over them one of Thor's flannel shirts, his jacket, and a pair of boots that are a little too big for him. Thor wears a dark gray turtle neck and blue jeans – he doesn't need more, that's for sure.

 

Loki has only stepped outside a couple of times, keeping to the patio mostly, but now they set out up the hill, heading the other way than the entrance road is. There is no path, not really, so it's slow going, but Loki doesn't mind. They're clearly not heading anywhere, just taking a walk.

 

The air is chilly and crisp clear and Loki takes a deep lungful of it.

 

Then he starts huffing _slightly_ , his breaths coming quickly because they're climbing a hill. Their path takes them off to the side from the cabin and above it as well. The tree growth is thick but contained and the snow is so tightly packed that they walk across it rather than burrowing deep until they reach a peak, a semi-clearing and a beautiful view opens up before them.

 

Loki can't help but gasp a little. He's never seen anything like it. Endless miles of mountains, of snowy forest, in all directions. It's beautiful, but it's also constricting.

 

He could be wrong, but he wonders if this is Thor's way of telling him _you have nowhere to run._

 

Thor's face betrays nothing. Unlike Loki, he's not winded by the climb at all and he leans on a tree trunk, watching Loki rather than the picturesque surroundings. Loki doesn't care. He takes it all in. Back _home_ , his view had been his neighbor's dumpsters, stuffed into a tiny backyard.

 

It's suddenly too much and he looks for something to distract him from his thoughts... Thor's silent warning about any possible escape plans of Loki's, the difference between what he used to know and what is his life now, he shakes it all off and bends down to scoop some snow in his palms. It's pristine white, cold, and wet.

 

He packs it into a tight ball and chucks it at Thor.

 

It bursts on impact when it hits him square in the chest and Thor looks down, face full of confusion for a moment until he lifts his head slowly to look at Loki, and a grin spreads across his face.

 

_Oh shit_.

 

Loki doesn't stand a chance. Thor takes it easy, but even so he packs his snowballs with uncanny speed and his aim is impeccable. Loki's is too, but his packing grows sloppy as his fingers redden and get stiff with the cold.

 

He’s laughing, taking cover behind a tree trunk and trying to mold as many balls as he can, peeking from behind the tree to see Thor's hair hanging wetly around his face. There's a piece of unmelted snow stuck to his eyebrow and Loki chokes, trying to stifle his giggling before rounding around the tree to unleash all his ammo. Chest, hit. Shoulder, hit.

 

Thor stalks towards him, still grinning and when Loki flees, he chases him, tossing unpacked snow at him with both hands like an icy shower. Loki ducks, throwing his last ball before once again landing on his knees behind a large tree.

 

It's _exhilarating_.

 

A snowball bursts on the tree trunk, the cast-off snow coldly pinching his cheek and he hurries to make one more of his own before jumping from his cover-

 

A snowball hits him right in the temple.

 

“Ow.” He staggers.

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were moving,” Thor says from somewhere far away. The snow is thick and heavy, and Thor's warm hands and the strength he possesses were apparently able to transform the substance into something rock hard.

 

A migraine splits Loki's vision like a lightning from the sky.

 

Thor is cupping his face in his hands, passing his thumb over where the ball hit him. It feels a little sore to the touch but the true pain is pulsing _inside_. Distantly, Loki knows that the impact wasn't all that hard, but it's all he needed.

 

“I'm so sorry,” Thor repeats.

 

“I'm okay.”

 

Loki blinks, looking out to the mountains. The white of the snow and the bright blue of the sky are quickly becoming unbearable.

 

“Loki.”

 

“Hm?”

 

He finds himself hoisted in Thor's arm, bridal style. A rush of relief goes through him unexpectedly when he realizes he doesn't need to keep upright and he winds his arms around Thor's neck and pulls himself closer so that his head doesn't flop limply backwards. He closes his eyes, squeezing his eyelids tightly to protect against the brightness of the day.

 

Ow. Ow ow _ow_.

 

Underneath the pounding pain, he's calm. He's a little sorry that their walk – and the snowball fight which was more fun than he can remember having in months, except maybe for the time when he played some stoner at cards at a diner at 2AM and won himself a free dinner, about two days before Thor picked him up – was cut short, but he's fine otherwise.

 

“I didn't think I threw it that hard,” Thor tells him somewhere midway back to the cabin.

 

“You didn't,” Loki murmurs.

 

“You're in a lot of pain,” Thor huffs.

 

“It's a migraine, not a concussion.”

 

“You sound very certain of that.”

 

“Plenty of experience.”

 

It doesn't take them too long to get back into the cabin; Thor is sure-footed on the snow, taking them inside in long strides.

 

Loki lies on the couch where Thor has deposited him for a while, shielding his eyes with his hands until Thor finally comes back, handing him a mug of something vile looking. Loki sips it eagerly, well remembering the (magical) effects of the concoction. And indeed, the pain immediately starts to dull and recede. He takes another gulp or two and exhales loudly, curling into the back of the couch.

 

“I didn't mean to-”

 

“I get it, Thor. You weren't trying to maim me or torture me by throwing a snowball in my face. It was an accident.” A pause. “For a demon, you seem to have a lot of hang ups.”

 

“I told you hurting you wasn't something I wanted to do. I don't like going back on my word.”

 

Perhaps the drink does more than just heal, perhaps it makes Loki a little high, because he finds that hysterical.

 

He doesn't really know what it is that amuses him so much – that a guy who kidnaps him and coerces him into sex and makes him get wet in the ass, the way girls do in their vaginas, is so distraught by smacking Loki in the head with a bit of snow during a _game_ , or perhaps it's the idea that he's genuinely sorry about it, considering it a real problem that he has promised _no hurting_ and worries he's gone back on his word.

 

He giggles, but his laughter is cut off when Thor catches him firmly by the chin and tilts his head up, peering into Loki's eyes – not trying to make eye contact, but rather actually checking Loki's eyes.

 

“I'm fine,” he repeats, yanking his chin from Thor's grasp and taking a sip of his _potion_. He could get used to this. The pain is flowing away.

 

It makes him think. He swirls the thick, brown mixture around in the mug and frowns. “If you can heal me like this, why didn't you do it with this... Jane?”

 

Thor doesn't respond and Loki lifts his eyes up from where he's been staring at the liquid. He's shocked to see Thor's expression tight and stormy, the muscle at his jaw clenching.

 

“Because she didn't want it,” Thor says eventually. Anger is coming off him in waves and Loki instinctively draws back. Thor does nothing, just stares at Loki but it's like he's looking right through him. Very deliberately, Loki raises the mug to his mouth and takes a deep gulp. Thor's eyes slowly focus on him and he hurriedly drops his gaze, drinking some more.

 

Thor huffs and pets his hair.

 

“Better?” Thor asks, seemingly back to normal – whatever passes as normal for him, that is.

 

“Yeah, thanks.”

 

And he is. The pain is completely gone. For a second he thinks that Jane was stupid, not taking this little miracle cure, choosing instead to die from cancer. That couldn’t have been pretty. Then he shivers as a cold feeling runs down his spine and a terrible thought enters his mind uninvited.

 

Perhaps after twenty years with Thor, she saw death as an escape.

 

“So why do you get these migraines?” Thor asks him casually and Loki immediately stiffens.

 

“Dunno. Just... sucks to get hit in the head, I guess.”

 

Thor hooks a finger under his chin and when Loki obediently faces him, he runs his knuckles lightly over his cheek, stroking him gently. “And you get hit in the head a lot?”

 

Now it's Loki's turn to get angry. “Well, what do you think?” he spits.

 

Thor's eyes narrow but his touch remains soft. “So that's a yes, then. Is that why you ran away?”

 

“I told you already I didn't want to talk about this.”

 

Thor gets up from his crouch on the floor and sits on couch next to Loki, patting his lap. “Come here.”

 

Loki straddles his thighs and Thor catches him by the hips, rocking him a little closer, but still far enough so that they can maintain eye contact.

 

“Is that why you hate your father and despise and pity your mother?”

 

Loki is stunned. Ruffling through his memories, he's almost certain that those are the exact words he used. Why does Thor remember it?

 

More importantly, why does he care?

 

“He’s beat the crap out of me ever since I can remember,” he says flatly. “Happy?”

 

“Far from it,” Thor growls, eyes flashing. “Was he a drunk?”

 

“Not really. Just an asshole.”

 

Thor looks over his shoulder, eyes boring into the hearth. Loki watches the flames flicker in the reflection of Thor's eyes. Underneath him, Thor's thighs are tense.

 

Loki feels a burst of irritation that comes from somewhere deep inside and it makes him squirm.

 

“You wanna be righteously angry about it? Really?” he sneers at Thor, and Thor looks at him in surprise. “You should be glad. If he didn't, I wouldn't have been stranded at that fucking bus stop. You wouldn't have your little human slave.”

 

“Don't say that,” Thor says, incredulous. Loki is livid. Thor is staring at him, wide-eyed, like he's innocent. Like the idea of force and violence shocks him.

 

“I'll say whatever the fuck I want,” Loki shoots back and rolls off from Thor's lap. Or at least, he tries to. Thor catches him by the upper arms and keeps him in place. Loki raises his eyebrows and pointedly looks to where Thor's fingers are digging into his arm, squeezing him hard even through the flannel shirt sleeves.

 

“No hurting, huh? But you're not opposed to tossing me around a little, holding me down where you want me.”

 

He wants to fling Thor's hypocrisy to his face. He wants to make him _see_.

 

“That's enough, sweetheart,” Thor says simply, voice deep and gravelly. “Your father had no right to touch you. I do. You're mine.”

 

Loki recoils, but Thor isn't done. “Do I misuse that right? Do I torment you needlessly? I don't. I'll always be the same. You know what is expected of you and you hold your own happiness in your hands.”

 

Loki wants to scratch his eyes out and he actually tries to do just that. Thor, of course, stops him effortlessly.

 

“Yeah, I need to get used to this, I heard you the other night. But what if I don't? That's what happened to Jane, right? You were telling the truth, you didn't kill her. She _killed herself_ to be rid of you.”

 

He braces for the blow. He sees it in Thor's eyes. His words are ringing in his ears. He has plenty of experience with this. He knows what it's like when he drops the final drop, when something nasty flies out of his mouth without thinking and half a second later, he's tasting his own blood.

 

It doesn't land. Thor's grip of him loosens, turning from rough to merely firm.

 

“She loved me,” Thor says calmly. “But she had her beliefs, beliefs that I never denied her. She made a choice that I respected and I stayed with her till the very end. She _loved_ me, and I think that scares you more than the idea that she hated me so much she didn't want to live.”

 

With that, Thor slides Loki off his lap, leaving him speechless on the couch, and walks out of the cabin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See illustrations [here](http://thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if-this-is-hell).


	12. bargaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks so much to Sam for reading this over.
> 
> And thanks to all of you who comment!! I appreciate it so much.

Loki hates this fucking cabin.

 

He hates the way some of the wooden panels peel. He hates the beige paint. He hates the dark red fabric of the couch. The bed is lumpy and cold. The bathroom is old and gross and the shower takes forever to warm up and the huge boiler is loud and squeaky.

 

He tries to escape upstairs sometimes, but it's hardly an improvement. The rooms there are almost empty. In one stands a large cabinet filled with musty smelling clothing. Loki goes through it all, sorting out the pieces that are  _acceptable_ to wear. He hates the see-through silk as well.

 

In the second he happens upon a veritable treasure. There's an old suitcase and inside are heaps of paperback books and old magazines. He tries to pace himself and reads slowly, not discriminating between the titles, devouring every single word no matter how trite or confusing the novels are.

 

Today is no different. He has found a new favorite gown for himself. It's white and decorated with lace and he was about to toss it away before he registered how thick and warm it actually was underneath the lacy bits. It fits him better than the red one too. His camisole and shorts are almost interchangeable and as long as he can top that outfit off with thick socks, he's somewhat content. He is sitting on a pile of discarded clothing underneath a window in the upper bedroom, his back to the wall.

 

He's not quite sure where Thor is during these times. He still cooks for Loki and Loki is, obviously, required to join Thor at night, but other than that, he has a free reign.

 

It should perhaps feel freeing. It doesn't. The atmosphere is heavy and oppressive. Loki doesn't feel afraid, but he is unsettled.

 

Today's novel is a western. It's quite good. The time of publication puts it to the fifties and Loki isn't under the impression that the novel's fame ever left that decade. The house is quiet. Up here, Loki can't hear the fire, nor the humming of the pipelines.

 

And that's why he almost jumps out of his skin when the light in the room shifts imperceptibly and he glances up to see Thor standing in the door. He should have heard Thor coming up the stairs.

 

He must have been unnaturally quiet to sneak up on Loki like that. 

 

"What are you reading?" Thor asks him after a long pause, just as Loki's startled heart rate begins to calm.

 

_I'm not going to make small talk with you_ , Loki wants to say. "Some western," he says instead.

 

"I know you must be pretty bored," Thor says carefully and Loki squints at him.

 

"There are worse things than boredom."

 

Thor just looks at him and he says nothing for so long that Loki returns to his book. Not that he can concentrate with Thor hovering in the room like that, but he's not going to wait for Thor to finally express himself.

 

"I have a strange need to apologize."

 

Loki waits to see if Thor will add anything and he raises his head slowly as he waits, giving Thor a long look.

 

"But you won't," he guesses when Thor remains silent.

 

"No, I won't," Thor nods. "I might, however, promise not to ask you to speak about your parents, since it gets you so... incensed."

 

"Incensed," Loki echoes, not even attempting to keep his attitude from his tone.

 

Thor cocks his head in admission, an expectant air about him. Well, since he's here and they're talking, Loki might as well take advantage of that and get Thor talking about the things that still bug him.

 

"I want to know about your first human," he blurts out. Thor's mouth tightens and for a moment, Loki expects him to deny him the answer. But then he steps forward and takes a seat on the floor in the middle of the room, crossing his legs.

 

"I don't remember very well. I know it was a woman," Thor starts slowly, looking in Loki's general direction but not meeting his gaze. "And I know it was in the place where I- came to be. Scandinavia.

 

“All my memories from that time are only flashes. There's fire. There's snow. There's... endless bouts of sex. My memories of it are only clear after she was dead."

 

The paperback slips from Loki's fingers and hits the floor with a low thud. Thor's eyes follow it. Loki's don't.

 

"What did you do?" he asks, voice trembling.

 

"I'm not quite sure," Thor murmurs. Before, his voice was flat, almost cold, now it dropped in volume. "Most likely I... neglected her human needs and she didn't-"

 

"So basically she starved or froze while you fucked her to death." Loki's hand curl into fists and he unwittingly brings his knees to his chest. "And you wonder why I don't want to be yours."

 

“It was a long time ago,” Thor frowns. “I- I may very well have been human before this happened. I didn't know what I was doing. Besides, the times were different. People went hungry, they went cold, especially in that part of the world.”

 

“You know,” Loki says thoughtfully. “It kinda seems like you're making excuses for yourself, and people usually do that when they're at least a little bit sorry.”

 

Thor spreads his arms, palms up. “You're the one who won't believe me when I say that I care. About you. About all my humans.”

 

“Not enough to let me go.”

 

For some reason that seems to amuse Thor and he smiles. “I care about  _my_ humans. Not all humans.”

 

Loki decides to test what exactly that might mean. “So what if I said I wanted to leave this shitty cabin behind and go somewhere else? What if I said I wanted you to steal billions and buy a private island for us?”

 

Thor cocks his head to the side, squinting a bit as he looks away from Loki. As though he's considering-

 

“I think that's an acceptable request. It might take some time, as I'm not as well versed in these times as I should be, but yes. I could do that.”

 

Loki's jaw drops.

 

“You're serious.”

 

Thor nods as if it was the most natural thing in the world, face open. 

 

For the first time since he was snatched, Loki's world view shifts and rearranges. Even before, he always saw future as something bleak. Endless schooldays interspersed with the hell that was his home. College was a vague idea. His grades weren't so good, courtesy of a total lack of motivation, a sharp tongue that always pissed the teacher off, a fuzzy brain after one slap too many, and hours upon hours of absence – skipping school or sitting in the ER.

 

When he set off that night, he was headed west. He thought California maybe... but he got derailed soon enough, relying on hitchhiking more than on buses, and ended up too far north. At that point, he pretty much stopped caring.

 

“You could help me,” Thor suggests carefully. “You could bring me up to speed on some things. And I'd give you what you wanted.”

 

“I don't know how to steal money,” Loki snorts and then pauses. “Well, not larger amounts of it anyway.”

 

“I do,” Thor smiles. “But I've been on the road for the past thirty years. I know things have changed, but I'm not sure how.”

 

“So you were actually trucking?” Somehow, this surprises Loki.

 

“I didn't do anything else.” Loki digests this information, setting yet another piece into the puzzle that is Thor. Meanwhile Thor gets up. “Come to bed early tonight. Think about what you want.”

 

_What_ does _Loki want?_

 

* * *

 

It starts with what Thor wants, obviously. He's held back since their argument, but now he sits in the bed, leaning against the headboard, the sheets pooling in his lap barely covering anything. Loki comes in and hesitates only briefly before dropping his gown and crawling into the bed. Thor doesn't move, doesn't grab him and Loki frowns. He knows what Thor is angling for. He wants Loki to come to him, like the one night before, when Loki touched him.

 

He's unhappy with this turn of events. There's a lot of spite in him still and he knows he won't bring himself to initiate anything. He shouldn't have to.

 

“I won't do all the work,” he announces, sitting back on his shins. “Come and get me.”

 

Thor doesn't need to be told twice and Loki finds himself on his back underneath Thor before he can even blink, and he straight away questions if it was really smart to issue an invitation like that. Despite the urgency of his movement, though, Thor remains – somewhat – gentle. He presses his lips to Loki's and slowly coaxes him into a deeper kiss. 

 

Loki sinks into the bed, accepting the hot weight of Thor on top of him. Part of him thinks that maybe this is the moment when he should start thinking about something else, just close his eyes and ignore everything that's happening, but it's impossible.

 

It's no mystery to him, not anymore. Thor told him that he wanted to get Loki off every time.  _All_ the time. And now Thor is coming down onto him like a man starving, which Loki supposes is half true. His clothing is pulled off in seconds and Thor's naked skin is pressed to his as Thor laps at the skin of his neck before traveling down to Loki's nipples and sucking on them.

 

Loki puts some effort into not arching into Thor's mouth. This means  _nothing_ to him. He's only here because he's willing to hear out Thor's offer of a better life. If the guy becomes a millionaire... well, Loki would be dumb to push him away, right? Since he's clearly not willing to let go.

 

Thor kisses him all over, thoroughly. Staying still is becoming harder and finally, when Thor nuzzles his belly button and runs his fingers where Loki's hips meet his thigh, a promise of touch yet to come, he shifts, squirming and flushed.

 

He wishes hadn't done that – the second his legs shuffle, his buttocks rub against each other and he can feel the slick pulsing out of him. He tenses and Thor looks up at him.

 

Thor's not smug about it, which is something. He goes back to lapping at every inch of Loki's skin before sliding even lower and taking Loki in his mouth. And it’s there that Loki is completely lost. It's hot and wet and Thor has his knees shaking in a manner of minutes. Then, just as Loki gives up and accepts his impending orgasm, Thor hitches one of his legs over his shoulder and slips his fingers below. There's barely a hint of teasing before Thor's finger slips inside Loki. Loki gulps, grasping at the sheets. It feels nothing like it did before, with oil or Thor's come to ease the way.

 

It's smooth and painless and pleasant.

 

_Natural_ .

 

Thor doesn't give him much time to ponder. Loki feels himself being stretched a bit more, several of Thor's fingers are now pumping in and out of his hole while Thor's lips slide down to the root of Loki's cock and he sucks and swallows around him. It's almost too intense, but while his brain might think that, his body apparently disagrees as a flash of white hot pleasure goes through him and he comes, hips lifting off the bed.

 

He collapses back down, panting, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the way Thor's fingers are buried deep inside him, deeper than before. He's done that, not Thor. He has impaled himself forcefully when he came, pushing his cock deeper into Thor's mouth, and Thor's fingers deeper into himself.

 

Thor pulls away and gives him some space as Loki closes his eyes, still breathing hard. When Loki comes around, he notices that Thor isn't his usual pushy self. He squints up to see what he's doing and finds Thor sitting on the bed, cock standing hard but untouched, watching Loki with a soft expression.

 

Feeling magnanimous, Loki lazily waves him over and Thor stretches at his side, smiling. He looks like he's about to say something, but Loki doesn't want to hear it and he – successfully – silences him by wrapping his hand around his erection.

 

It's almost effortless, bringing Thor off. Despite the earlier tension between them, Thor seems incredibly happy, as well as eager. Watching his bright eyes close in pleasure as Loki randomly speeds up the movement of his hand, or squeezes at this or that time. Loki reflects on just how quickly Thor's demeanor changed after Loki had accepted his attempt at reconciliation. 

 

Loki already knows so much about the power Thor has over him. He's stronger, faster, older. He's in possession of the house, of the car, of all their provisions.

 

But the question is, what kind of power does  _Loki_ have over  _Thor_ ? 

 

 

 


	13. choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Sam for beta-reading and thank you to everyone commenting, you keep me going!
> 
> Check [my tag for this fic on my blog](http://thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if-this-is-hell)!

 

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

 

Loki whines into the pillow, so deep in sleep that he’s more annoyed than confused. A warm, insistent hand gently shakes his shoulder and Loki grunts again as tendrils of consciousness start to trickle in.

 

He squints one eye open to see that the bedroom is almost dark with only pale blue light coming in through the gap between the drapes.

 

_What the hell?_

 

Loki's been sleeping late every day, the long nights suiting his teenage disposition, and Thor has never woken him like this. He doesn't know what time it is, but the lack of light outside tells him that it's painfully early.

 

“What's going on?” he slurs, trying to curl deeper into the blankets even as Thor pulls them off him.

 

“You need to get up. We have a long journey ahead.”

 

That wakes up Loki better than a bucket of ice water would. He sits up comically quickly, peeling his eyes wide open to stare at Thor.

 

“We're going _away_?”

 

“We're going _shopping_ ,” Thor says, hands raised up as if to signal that Loki should calm down.

 

_As if he could._

 

“There's almost nothing left for you to eat,” Thor goes on, all casual, as though the idea of leaving the cabin isn't completely ground-breaking to Loki. As Loki sits amidst the covers, gaping at Thor, his heart racing, Thor tosses a bundle of something onto the bed and Loki grabs it. It's his jeans again, but this time they're accompanied by his shirt and hoodie; things he thought he would never see again.

 

He shoots out of the bed.

 

* * *

 

They’re on the road in under ten minutes. Loki has gone to the bathroom, scrubbed his teeth, pulled his clothing on, and he was ready to go. Thor handed him his old coat as well and once they got to the pick-up, he also produced a thermos and an old, banged up protein bar.

 

Loki drinks from the thermos now, enjoying the warmth of the coffee, though he saves his 'breakfast' for later. He's staring, completely elated, at the passing landscape.

 

Leaving the cabin. They're _leaving the cabin_ and going to civilization. It makes him so incredibly happy and excited he's almost disgusted with himself.

 

“Where are we, anyway?” he asks, wondering as the narrow forest road they're on joins onto a slightly wider one, but no less covered in snow and surrounded by trees. It took them almost two hours just to get there.

 

“Northern Idaho,” Thor replies, and Loki whistles under his breath. That's not where he ever envisioned himself.

 

Soon enough they start passing cars now and then. Mostly heavy-duty trucks and pickups like their own, capable of weathering all the snow, but they're still signs of people, of life, to Loki and he soaks up their presence.

 

He glances at Thor who seems impeccably calm. What is this? A show of trust? A test?

 

Thor could have left him back at the cabin. Without a car, Loki wouldn't be going anywhere. Hell, Thor could tie him up, lock him in the basement, do anything to make sure Loki wouldn't be brazen enough to start a trek through the snow to escape.

 

Perhaps Thor really thinks they're beyond that now. That they have an agreement.

 

_Do we?_

 

Two hours on the road to get down the mountain, another two through a seemingly endless valley, and then one more hour until they're pulling into the parking lot of a store in the middle of a small town.

 

“Grab a cart,” Thor tells him quietly once they're inside. “Take anything you want, I'll get the necessities.”

 

Loki nods, distracted. Bright lights, aisles stacked to the ceiling with colorful boxes, that stale vegetable smell that stores tend to have. And people. There are people, not many but some, doing their routine shopping, unaware of who – what – walks among them. Loki wraps his palm around the cart handle and starts walking slowly.

 

Thor does attract some looks though.

 

Appreciative ones.

 

Loki notices a middle aged woman with dark hair in a perky bun on the top of her head stopping to peruse boxes of cereal, only to throw a long sideways glance at Thor who is piling his own cart with rice and pasta from two shelves over.

 

Loki tries to look at him the same way she does. A tall, broad man in his thirties, dressed in worn blue jeans, a red flannel shirt showing underneath his unzipped bulky jacket. A couple of strands of hair hang about Thor's face, softening his already handsome features.

 

He shakes himself and turns to the nearest shelf, snatching several chocolate bars. Pointless. She would be so- if she knew-

 

The sound of her voice startles him and he whirls around again. She’s approached Thor and is talking to him under some flimsy guise that Loki didn't quite catch.

 

“Just passing through,” Thor is saying. Without really knowing, Loki has steered his cart towards them and Thor glances at him, his expression reserved.

 

“Did you see the diner, Joe's? Best burgers in the state. I can-”

 

“Hey daddy, did you find the flea shampoo yet?” Loki asks brightly, cutting the woman off. She turns to him and awkward silence hangs over the small group for a second before Loki goes on, covering his mouth with his hand briefly in an _oops_ motion. “I mean, uh, for our dog.”

 

She walks off without a word and Loki grins. Oh, he still has it.

 

Only then it occurs to him to check Thor's reaction, and his amusement fades as he finds Thor still stone-faced.

 

“You shouldn't call me that,” Thor tells him quietly. “I don't look old enough to be your father, and you look way too young for the... other meaning.”

 

“I _am_ way too young for it,” Loki hisses in reply, annoyed by Thor's scolding. He was the one fucking about with some woman. Loki got them rid of her. “You should have thought about that sooner.”

 

* * *

 

Loki indulges in some true retail therapy after that. He fills his cart with anything and everything that looks even remotely tasty while Thor stacks up the boring provisions.

 

It kind of helps.

 

Judging by the amount of junk food he has managed to round up, he expects Thor to tell him off for it or make him put something back. It doesn't happen. They meet at an aisle near the cash registers, and Thor surveys if they have everything they need. Loki cocks his head, considering Thor as he re-counts some of the – boring – boxes in his cart, his expression so concentrated and earnest. It hits Loki then, that this food is for him. Thor doesn't need it, not directly. It's all so that can take care of-

 

A flash of blue and red dances over the shelves and they both turn.

 

They're at the front of the store and beyond the cash registers there is glass all around, making up essentially the whole front wall of the store. The parking lot is clearly visible.

 

A police car is pulling over, lights flashing.

 

They watch silently as a single cop gets out and heads for the door. Thor starts moving then, calm and casual, entering the short line at one of the registers. He starts piling all the items onto the belt. Loki waits, heart pounding.

 

He's a kidnap victim. He could run to the cop and ask for help. For a long while, as boxes of provisions flash under Thor's hands in almost a blur, he thinks about doing exactly that. The cop is in his fifties, a tall man with a bit of a belly stretching his uniform shirt, a heavy jacket, not unlike Thor's sitting on his shoulders. He could run towards him, ask for help, point his finger at Thor.

 

_And then what?_

 

In the unlikely event that Thor wouldn't put up a fight, Loki could expect to be taken to a station, where the hard question would be asked. The long wait before his identity would be confirmed. Did his parents file a report after he ran? Social services would probably be called, and he still has months until he turns eighteen. Where would he be then? Either at a foster home or right back with his own parents.

 

And then there's of course the option that Thor _would_ put up a fight.

 

The cop comes to the register next to theirs, leaning casually against the belt and greeting the cashier.

 

“Hello, Suzie,” he says. His voice carries. “Ready for the report? Those kids, I swear-”

 

Thor clears his throat and Loki turns, seeing Thor is already putting away the things from Loki's cart. His movements are still relaxed but there's brightness in his eyes and Loki stubbornly meets his gaze.

 

As they're being rung up, from the bits and pieces he hears, he puts together that some vandalism and shoplifting took place here and the cop is taking the cashier's statement. He's not here because of them. Loki thought for a second that perhaps the woman who was flirting with Thor had... but no. She was probably just disgusted, maybe even a little embarrassed.

 

He relaxes a little – it's funny he should be so tense and nervous in the first place, he's not the criminal here – and as such he doesn't notice when the cop wraps up his talk with the cashier and comes over.

 

“Hey there,” he says and Loki jumps. “Stocking up?”

 

He’s eyeing Thor and Loki with mild curiosity, nothing else, but Loki knows this kind of look can turn into something way more suspicious in the blink of an eye.

 

“Yeah,” Loki speaks up before Thor can reply. “We're joining our parents up at the cabin. S'mores.”

 

He adds that as he lifts a chocolate bar from the belt. The cop glances briefly between him and Thor and everything they're buying. Loki tenses involuntarily.

 

“Well, drive safe. It's supposed to snow tonight.” That's all he says after a pause and Loki slowly lets out a breath.

 

“We will, thank you,” Thor nods smoothly.

 

Loki swallows, hard.

 

Then the cop is gone, waving goodbye vaguely to everyone in sight. It makes sense as they're all local, expect for Thor and Loki of course. He drives off before their cashier even gives them the total.

 

They stack all the food back into the carts and Thor pulls out a wallet with a thick wad of cash that Loki can't help but eye with interest. Thor's promising him a life of luxury, but he also said that he would need to get some more money before that could happen. Loki wonders how much Thor actually has to his name now. How did he get the cabin? Did he buy it?

 

“Why don't we try that diner?” Thor asks once they're done piling their shopping into the pickup. “You must be starving.”

 

Loki is. The idea of a big, greasy burger with a mountain of fries sounds like heaven, and he says as much. They leave the car parked and cross the street, the snow there trampled into slush, and while there are piles of snow everywhere, the air feels a little warmer than up in the mountains. Thor steers him away from a particularly nasty puddle of gray, melted snow with a light hand on the small of Loki's back. Funnily enough, it feels natural.

 

The inside of the diner smells like coffee and frying oil. They slide into a booth, seated at opposite sides on bouncy red seats that look out onto the main street. Loki immediately grabs the laminated menu and reads it with perhaps more attention than the task really demands.

 

“Welcome to Joe's, what can I get you?” A waitress slides up to them, pleasantly perky.

 

“Just coffee for me, thanks,” Thor tells her and they both look at Loki expectantly. Loki stumbles over his order – double cheeseburger with bacon and extra cheese fries – because he can't help but feel thrown off by the sight of Thor interacting with someone. Again.

 

When the waitress is gone, heavy silence spreads through their booth.

 

Loki plays with his fingers under the table and stares out the window.

 

“Quick thinking back there,” Thor says eventually. “It was more trustworthy coming from you.”

 

“Yeah, no calling you daddy in front of the cop. That wasn't exactly hard to figure out,” Loki murmurs.

 

“Not just that,” Thor shakes his head and Loki's eyes snap to him. He's surprised by how warm Thor sounds. Is he being praised right now? “You sounded natural and you didn't overdo it. Your mention of parents, of s'mores... those are some sweets you do over a fire, right?”

 

Loki smiles, he can't help it. He opens his mouth to tell Thor that he actually also picked marshmallows and crackers, so they can make some, when a cold realization slithers down his spine.

 

“You had them with Jane, didn't you?” he asks flatly.

 

“I did,” Thor admits.

 

Loki isn't sure why the thought of Jane grates on him so much. At first he thought he could sympathize with her, think about how she felt – after all, she was from the same century as he is, pretty much, and American too – she should be closer to him than some medieval European lady.

 

_She loved me._

 

Loki shakes it off as best as he can.

 

“Yeah, well, we got rid of him. End of story.” He scowls at Thor for good measure, making sure he knows what he thinks of this topic.

 

Thor shrugs. “You could do this. You could join me fully like we talked about.”

 

He _is_ being praised. Praised for lying and pretending, and that is surely a first.

 

The waitress passes by, bringing a plate of fries to someone sitting at the back of the diner. He follows her idly with his eyes before he decides to face Thor again.

 

“If I had run to the cop, would you have killed him?”

 

The waitress is coming back, returning to the bar at the front. Thor lets her pass in silence, her sneakers squeaking on the shiny floor.

 

“I would have killed this entire town if it stood between you and me, sweetheart.”

 

 


	14. compromise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! As always, loving all your feedback <3
> 
> Many thanks to Sam for beta-reading.

It's probably a testament to how used to his fucked up situation he's gotten that Thor's proclamation doesn't completely floor him.

 

Deep down, he probably expected as much.

 

He didn't take the chance with the cop, just as he won't take the chance with any of the other people they meet.

 

_Because you're just nice like that, aren't you, Loki? Wouldn't want them to get hurt. Nothing more to it._

 

Thor's gaze is hard and steely on him, as though he expects Loki to protest. To be horrified.

 

Loki isn't.

 

But he's not unaffected either. There was something about the low, rumbling tone of Thor's words that resonated with something deep inside of him that he doesn't have a name for.

 

His burger comes and it's exactly as glorious as Loki hoped it would be. Overly large, dripping with sauce, the top bun falling off as it can't contain all the bacon and cheese and veggies.

 

Thor is amused as Loki attacks his plate. “Enjoy.”

 

Loki grunts his acknowledgment with his mouth full.

 

The waitress comes to check on him a while later and he can't reply – once again chewing an ambitious mouthful – so Thor does it for him.

 

“I think my brother's silence says everything,” Thor smiles, sneaking a fry off Loki's plate and biting into it as the waitress laughs.

 

“It does. Let me know if you need anything else.”

 

“Definitely.”

 

Loki narrows his eyes at Thor, not liking the flirtatious way he says it, but appearances must be kept. They're “brothers”, after all, and little brothers don't get jealous of their older brothers’ smile at waitresses. No, they just roll their eyes and keep eating.

 

“So,” he starts once his stomach begins to feel uncomfortably full. He will eat that burger if it kills him, but he has to at least slow down in order to do that. “Did you ever have to do that? Kill people to defend your human?”

 

“On several occasions, yes,” Thor says, frowning, as he takes another fry. “It took me some time, centuries, to develop my scheme and anchor myself in _polite_ society. That kind of subterfuge is not that easy. One must have documents, recommendations, family trees even. Before I perfected this craft, I was found out sometimes, and attacked.”

 

“You talk differently,” Loki notes. He has noticed this before, but now it's happening again. Thor cocks his head in silent question. “When you talk about the old times, your language becomes... proper. Not American. I don't know.”

 

“I took on a lot of nationalities over the years. I learned that there's only so far the exoticism of being a foreigner will take you. Humans are odd like that.” He frowns. “So I'm adapting.”

 

Completely unbidden, one of Laufey's rants about _damn immigrants_ comes to Loki's mind. Laufey had plenty of anger to go around and while Loki was his favorite target, he was by no means the only one.

 

He looks gloomily down at his delicious burger. That memory, the memory of his father being a dickhead, is bringing on an unfortunate trip down the memory lane. About two months before he ran, he won a bet, something stupid he can't even remember with a classmate, and he had biked to the McDonald's two towns over to have a couple of their flat cheeseburgers.

 

They weren't terribly poor. His mother made okay money in the post office and Laufey had odd jobs. But somehow there was never enough for anything that Loki might want.

 

“What is it?” Thor asks him in a low voice and Loki almost jumps. He didn't realize how deep in his own thoughts he was.

 

“Nothing,” he says perhaps a little too sharply. “So, how much money do you have?”

 

Thor glances to the side. “Let's talk about that later.”

 

By _later_ he means _in private_ , but Loki is irked – by his own memories only, but still – and he doesn't want to let it go.

 

“I don't want to leave yet,” he hisses. “We got food, but there's fuck all to do at the cabin. I want books. How about a computer? And clothes?”

 

“We need to get gas. You can buy whatever they have in the store.”

 

Loki sighs and says nothing, focusing on his food. Maybe Thor thinks he's sulking because couple of minutes later, he reaches out to lightly squeeze Loki's wrist and smiles at him. “We won't stay at the cabin forever. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

Loki raids the gas station store of all the paperbacks and most of the magazines that they have. The clerk watches him a bit weirdly until Thor swoops in and distracts him with talk about the road and the best ways to keep a car in shape in the deep winter, and they are able to leave without incident.

 

When they’re back on the road, Loki can't stop thinking about how when he was pulling out magazines from the racks, his eyes got caught on the top row, which was covered with white tape to hide the pictures on the more _raunchy_ ones. He doubts they were porn magazines, but they sure had a lot to do with sex. He tries to imagine himself caring about something like that a couple months back.

 

Or knowing anything about it.

 

And then there's the fact that it was all women in the pictures, and the magazines were aimed at men who were interested in them, so it's probably a moot point anyway. He's getting his “education” in a vastly different manner now and it can't be taken back.

 

He wonders if his first real kiss would have been a girl or a guy.

 

“Everything alright?” Thor asks him and Loki's eyes snap up to him. He nods, but it's not true. There's something bugging him. At first he thinks it's his choice to go along with the pretense they put up in the town – as far as chances for escape go, he would have fared much, much better there than he ever will at the cabin again. He sits in silence as they drive, poking and prodding the thought in his head over and over again.

 

But it's not that. There's no crippling regret over not flinging himself at the cop, screaming for help.

 

If not the cop, though, then who? The waitress? The guy in the gas station?

 

It hits him, then.

 

“You're good with people,” he says quietly.

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“I said you're good with people,” Loki repeats a bit more loudly. “Almost everyone we met today was all smiles. Friendly, chatty. You did that.”

 

There's a pause and even as Loki keeps staring forward he notices Thor looking at him.

 

“Okay, maybe. It all went smoothly, yeah.” Thor's tone is moderate and careful while Loki struggles with his own emotions. That bastard. Unruffled as always.

 

“So _maybe_ you could have picked anyone but me. Sweet-talked anyone into agreeing to be with you.”

 

Somewhere underneath that anger he knows he's not being rational. What exactly is he trying to scold Thor for now? For _chance_? A twist of fate or some shit like that? For being on that road at that time, instead of impersonating some rich business man and flirting with a too-young waitress somewhere in the Caribbean?

 

Thor huffs and Loki whips around to look at him, daring him to laugh. Thor isn't laughing – luckily for him – just looking a little contemplative. “I suppose you're right, but I just didn't want to be around people. I didn't want to get along with this world. Either way, you can't change what happened now, and neither can I.”

 

“I know,” Loki nods eventually. “But guess what. You're gonna need to get over yourself and get your charm back on. I want us to be rich.”

 

This time Thor does laugh, and he reaches over to squeeze Loki's thigh just a tad too sharply.

 

“I can do that.”

 

“Good,” Loki says under his breath viciously.

 

Because that's all he can think of to make this situation better. It was one thing for Thor to promise him that maybe, _perhaps, some time_ they might plan some kind of a con, and another thing to actually see him out there, mingling with people, drawing stares with his height and his broad shoulders and his stupid bright eyes.

 

Thor has been fucking people over for centuries, and if Loki is stuck with him, he wants to reap every single benefit of it.

 

“When can we leave the cabin? Give me a time,” he asks.

 

“A couple of weeks. We need to finish our bonding there.”

 

“So once you've fucked me, we can go?” Loki shoots and then Thor's palm is back on his thigh, fingers tight in warning.

 

“Something like that, yes, but as I've told you before, it's a _process_.”

 

Loki gets it. He hears the tone of Thor's voice, stripped of any amusement. His skin is tingling a little with the force of Thor's fingers squeezing him. He knows he's toeing the line, but he just can't bring himself to care. He's tired and strung out.

 

“Well, that process needs to get a move on. You took weeks just eating me out, you can't-”

 

To his surprise, Thor pulls his hand back instead of making Loki shut up by tightening his grip.

 

“Lean over and suck me off then.” Thor tells him flatly.

 

“What?” Loki splutters a little, eyes darting from the road – deserted and darkening as the bleak sunlight rapidly disappears – right to Thor's crotch.

 

“You just said it, Loki. You want to hurry up and become fully mine. There are still many acts that I want us to experience before we bond fully and this is one of them. You're in a rush, so get to it.”

 

“I didn't- I'm not-”

 

He can feel his face heating up with the thought. He's already touched Thor, yes, but that was... it was just his hand and Thor talked him into it with some kind of gentleness. And they're in _public_. Sort of.

 

He hates how Thor re-framed his words. He's in a hurry to get out of there and start living some kind of semblance of life, not to _become Thor's_.

 

He searches for words uselessly.

 

“You don't have to do it,” Thor speaks up a while later, his tone milder than before, “but if you decide not to, I don't want to hear comments like that anymore.”

 

Right. That's Thor and his compromises. If Loki refuses to blow him now, he can look forward to weeks and weeks dragging on as Thor leisurely goes through his _process_.

 

Well. He's going to have to do it eventually.

 

“Fine,” he spits and reaches to shove Thor's jacket out of the way and undo his belt. Thor hums in something like approval and lifts his right arm to give Loki better access, only putting it back on the steering wheel once Loki has scooted closer on his knees and shoved his upper body above Thor.

 

Belt undone, he pops open the button and reaches for the zipper, growing more nervous with every second.

 

Thor's not wearing any underwear and Loki tugs the jeans open and as far down as they will go, which is not much, but after some awkward shuffling, Thor's cock is finally out in the open, mostly hard and very scary looking this close up.

 

He freezes for a second, indecisive, and then Thor's hand is in his hair, gentle. “Just stroke it with your hand like you did before and put your mouth on the tip,” Thor whispers and Loki absolutely fucking hates himself for feeling relieved that Thor dropped that no-bullshit attitude and is back to his more typical coaching approach.

 

How fucking pathetic does it make Loki that he relaxes the second Thor starts to play nice again and pets his hair?

 

But there's no going back now; he does as Thor tells him. His cock is thick and heavy in his hand and he adjusts his grip around the root, bringing his hand up and down a few times while almost instinctively gathering saliva in his mouth. He closes his eyes and parts his lips, ducking his head down.

 

It's slippery and smooth, that's his first thought. Then the taste hits him, bitter and salty, an approximation of what he had tasted back at the altar when Thor came all over him and then shoved the mess, mixed with blood, into his mouth. He tries to pucker his lips and just slide them up and down, but he's clumsy and feels his teeth hit the spongy flesh.

 

“Use your tongue,” Thor instructs. Loki does, licking the head, feeling a bit weirded out by how different the texture is from skin, but he must be doing something right because he can hear Thor let out a breath somewhere above him. “Good. Keep going.”

 

A strange sense of purpose – like he's been challenged – fills him and he strokes Thor harder, licking him messily. He's awkwardly crammed underneath Thor's arm and it's hot and unpleasant in the car now that he's exerting himself like this. On top of that, he can't help but wonder if any of the passing cars can see what's going on in their pickup. What if they're pulled over?

 

But at the same time, he's already doing it. The line's been crossed. He's put his mouth on Thor's cock and he's done it for a purpose – one apart from the obvious, that is.

 

Once Thor is wet all over with Loki's saliva and his own dribbles, Loki gives another try to taking him in, this time using his tongue along with his lips and it seems to work; he has to open his mouth quite a lot, because Thor is thick and large, but he does slip in, filling Loki's mouth and pushing at his tongue. Thor grunts and brings his hand to the back of Loki's neck. Loki stills. If Thor pushed down right now, he would choke _badly_. There's nothing to stop Thor's cock from going deep in his throat and the fear of that happening almost makes him struggle and give up.

 

However, Thor only strokes his thumb over Loki's pulse. “Just like that,” he murmurs.

 

Tentatively, Loki begins moving up and down. He finds that it comes quite easy to him to sync his hand and his mouth, bringing Thor deeper into his mouth on the upstroke and easing up on the downstroke.

 

“I'm going to come,” Thor says quietly after a while, his voice bearing only a hint of tension, which confuses Loki momentarily. Does he mean right now? Against his tongue, Thor's cock is definitely very hard. “I want you to swallow everything.”

 

Well, no surprise there. Loki grunts out a sound meant to convey he understands and Thor hisses. _Interesting_. He makes a point of speeding up and Thor's grip on him tightens slightly, holding him in place as Thor twitches up, deeper into his mouth and starts coming. Once again Loki is startled into stillness as his mouth is filled up, Thor's come coating the back of his tongue. He swallows with effort.

 

All of a sudden, the discomfort of the position in the cramped car makes itself known again and he's surprised that he had actually managed to forget. He tries to figure out how to sit back when he feels the car slowing down and then rocking slightly on an uneven surface; Thor has pulled over. Once they've come to a stop, he lets Loki go and Loki sits up, glancing around. There's darkness all around, the only source of light coming from the headlights and even so the illuminated space seems like a joke against the vast expanse of nothing.

 

Thor turns on the overhead light and takes Loki by the chin. “Alright?”

 

Loki nods, letting Thor wipe his lips with his thumb. It's only his own spit wetting them, none of Thor's come – he got all of that down.

 

Thor looks at him for a while longer and then does his jeans up. Loki giggles and covers his mouth with his hand to stop it.

 

“What?” Thor cocks his head. He doesn't look mad at all.

 

“I don't know. I thought this kind of thing only happened on TV. On bad TV, that is,” he snorts. He's just given a blowjob in a car. While they were driving. “A long way to go from Roman orgies and consummation of marriages, huh?”

 

Thor laughs with him and takes them back on the road.

 

“It is. I suppose it’s time for me to discover new things.”

 

 


	15. milk and cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Thanks to everyone reading <3
> 
> And thanks to Sam for her helpful and speedy beta-reading.

Loki falls asleep before they make it back to the cabin.

 

He wakes up as they pull in, but he's warm and sleepy and before he can talk himself into getting out of the car, Thor is already opening the passenger side door and scooping him up into his arms. The cold air is a shock against his face.

 

He grunts. “I can walk.”

 

“I know you can, I just don't think you feel like it,” Thor laughs and carries him up the porch stairs.

 

“So observant,” Loki murmurs and lets himself be carried. “Is this my princess treatment then? In exchange for the blowjob?”

 

“Yes,” Thor says flatly and opens the door. “If you hadn't done as well as you did, I would toss you face first in the snow.”

 

The meaning takes a while to penetrate Loki's sleepy brain.

 

Thor's _joking_.

 

“Oh great,” he rolls his eyes. “You're funny now. That's what's been missing this whole time.”

 

He doesn't anticipate being kissed, but Thor hoists him a bit higher in his arms and presses his mouth to Loki's with some urgency. Loki parts his lips and returns the kiss because what the hell. No going back now. And he's long since enjoyed the way Thor kisses.

 

Which probably makes him more than just a little fucked in the head, but he's exhausted by constantly going back and forth dissecting every single moment of the shit-show that is now his life.

 

“Bed, please,” he says against Thor's lips and Thor starts purring in response as he rushes through the living room and into the bedroom.

 

It's quite cold in the cabin without the fire running the whole day, so Loki is happy to kick off his jeans and coat and crawl under the covers. Thor follows soon after, completely naked, and Loki winds his arms and legs around him, seeking warmth.

 

Of course, because it's _Thor_ it can't stop with just cuddling and a little body heat sharing, but he's okay with that.

 

Thor rolls on top of him, nuzzling his neck and Loki finds himself opening his eyes and looking up, past Thor's shoulder. His knees are parted around Thor's hips, his arms wrapped around Thor's neck. Thor's long hair tickles his cheek. Everything feels soft and pleasant and he keeps on seeking out the warmth of Thor's skin.

 

Somewhere along the way he's gotten used to it.

 

All of it – the kissing, the touching, the feeling of Thor's hard cock pressing hotly against him. He tries to remember whether he was ever really disgusted by Thor, and perhaps it's the optimism of memory, but he thinks he was probably only ever just scared.

 

But there's nothing to be scared of now. Loki blinks at the ceiling even as Thor vibrates with purrs in Loki's arms. What should he be scared of? Thor won't beat him up. He won't fuck him, not now, that will come later and Loki still has time to prepare for that. He's already touched Loki all over, jerked him, sucked him off, fingered him – and Loki has pretty much returned the favor. Fear of the unknown is out. So is pain.

 

All these realizations bring tightness to his throat and he can feel himself panicking because all of a sudden he can't remember why he should mind being with Thor.

 

He tries to gather up all the reasons – all the very real, rational reasons – for why this is terrible, but they keep slipping out like water from his hands.

 

_Why_ should _he mind this?_

 

“What's wrong?” Thor is looking down at him, face shadowed by curling strands of hair, blue eyes narrowed with concern.

 

The truth – or rather, the question – is on the tip of his tongue, but he stops himself in time. He remembers well the last time he accused Thor of controlling his mind. If Thor is really fucking with him like that, he won't admit to it. And if he's not, if this is really all just Loki, he will just expose himself by asking.

 

He feels weak. He studies Thor's face mutely, not responding, eyes raking over the soft beard, the crinkles around his eyes, every single detail that makes him as handsome as he is. And then there's the weight of his body above Loki's.

 

Attractive.

 

No, not just that.

 

Flawless. Powerful.

 

How the hell did he get to this point? And why hasn't he _noticed_ that he was giving in?

 

“Nothing,” he says. It seems like forever ago that Thor has asked him the question. “Keep going.”

 

He thought he was playing Thor by demanding they leave the cabin and get rich. He thought he was planning some form of an escape through that.

 

Instead, he can see himself by Thor's side. In the vision, Thor is wearing a fitting suit, his hair is tied back, there's a champagne flute in his hand. Loki is more casual because he hates suits, but his jeans are designer and his jumper is made of cashmere. There's no desire to escape. He is smirking at the people around them, knowing he could destroy them all with a flick of his fingers.

 

He digs his fingers into Thor's shoulders.

 

Was it ever really about the money?

 

Yeah, okay, it was partly. But fancy apartments and big houses and expensive cars aside, there's Thor.

 

Thor who would kill hundreds for him.

 

“Wow,” he whispers, staring at the ceiling.

 

Thor strokes his cheek, frowning. “I'll let you rest.”

 

“No.” Loki shuts his knees closed around Thor's waist when he notices he's pulling away. “No, stay.”

 

His body feels foreign, but at the same time not foreign at all – in fact, he's comfortable in his skin, more so than he can remember being in a long while, like everything is in the right place, including _Thor_.

 

And Thor stays, running his knuckles lightly over Loki's cheek and down his throat before splaying his palm over Loki's chest and brushing their lips together. He teases, pecking Loki slightly before retreating to lick and nuzzle beneath Loki's ear before surging back up for a deep, proper kiss.

 

There's no longer that falling sensation of _giving in_ to the physical responses that Thor is so skilled at drawing from him. Instead, he is seeking them out, offering himself to the touch.

 

“What would you like?” Thor asks and nips at the edge of his jaw.

 

“Your mouth,” Loki says evenly and then a snort escapes him. “Obviously.”

 

As if he would choose anything else after Thor's little ultimatum in the car.

 

Thor cracks a smile but does as Loki asked, shuffling down the bed and tossing Loki's legs over his shoulders. Loki grunts when Thor's weight leaves him and he takes the covers with him. It's still far too cold in the room for his liking.

 

Thor takes him in hand and strokes, mouthing at the quivering tendons of Loki's thigh. Thor's hold on his cock is casual and slow, but already all Loki wants is to come.

 

Instead, Thor pushes one of his thighs much further up and then teases between his cheeks with the tips of his fingers. Loki is, predictably, already wet, but not even the unnerving sensation can put him off now.

 

Thor takes him in his mouth at the same moment that he pushes two fingers into him.

 

“Shit,” Loki hisses. It's like he can feel every ridge of Thor's fingers as they slide deeper and deeper, the subtle curving between bone and knuckle turned into an instrument of teasing. And Thor's mouth... he's so assertive, so sure in sucking cock, like he could never gag or break a sweat. If it weren’t for the sweet, prickly satisfaction that spreads through the root of his cock to his belly, Loki might just view it as Thor drinking him down. It definitely doesn't feel like he's servicing Loki; he's indulging him at best.

 

But this is not new – the only thing that's new is that Loki truly doesn't care anymore.

 

And also that he dares to try and change this. Before he can talk himself out of it, he reaches down and winds his fingers through Thor's hair, holding on tightly as he raises his hips and fucks in.

 

It gives him a rush, the way Thor keeps his head still and his lips puckered for Loki to fuck between. Loki finds a rhythm; he cants his hip upwards to slide along Thor's tongue, and downward to bury Thor's fingers deeper inside him.

 

Then Thor starts purring around his cock and it's over.

 

Thor licks him diligently as he rests and tries to catch his breath; the head of his cock, the sweat from the crease of his thighs, the slick from between his cheeks. It all goes under the gentle ministrations of Thor's tongue.

 

“I'm sleepy,” Loki whines and Thor stops, tucking him in.

 

A gentle kiss on his cheek is the last thing he remembers before the long – and exhausting – day catches up to him.

 

* * *

 

In the morning the cabin is warm and smells like cinnamon and melted butter.

 

It's weird to wake up alone in the bed, so Loki doesn't waste any time and wraps himself in his nightgown, coming out to the kitchen.

 

The change seems disproportionate. All they did was buy food, and the sad stack of Loki's new magazines and paperbacks is definitely not what's making the kitchen look so... different.

 

Maybe it's just the warmth and the smell of what Loki strongly suspects are cookies.

 

And Thor. Thor who is wearing red shorts and nothing else, his hair in a bun as he whips around the kitchen.

 

“I need some coffee for this,” Loki announces, eyes lingering on Thor's stomach. He’s never noticed his abs being quite so pronounced.

 

He gets his coffee. As with all things, he has no experience with the best, much less luxury, but this coffee tastes way better than what he'd been drinking before and there's real cream in it too.

 

Thor doesn't say anything to him until he's almost finished drinking the cup. Loki mostly just watches the thin layer of foam on his coffee or the scratched table top, idly thinking about the day before. He notices that Thor is still busy around the kitchen, but he doesn't feel like investigating.

 

“So,” Thor starts, pecking Loki on the cheek, and Loki looks up at him, feeling pleasantly perky after the coffee.

 

Something catches his eye, something that _definitely_ doesn't belong.

 

“FUCK-” he yells and throws himself back, almost toppling his chair over. “What the-?”

 

“Oh,” Thor says, twisting his head to peer back over his own shoulder. “Sorry.”

 

Loki's heart is pounding and he covers his mouth with his hand. Should he have expected this? Apparently yes.

 

There's no other way to put it. Thor has a tail. A long, swishing, brownish-blond tail, almost cat-like in appearance.

 

Some really rude part of his brain suggests that the hair is the same color as Thor's pubes.

 

Because of course it is.

 

Under Loki's scrutiny it slithers away to hide behind Thor's back.

 

“Is that- is it sentient or something?” he asks dumbly and then looks up at Thor's face to see the corners of his mouth pulled down.

 

“No,” Thor stresses emphatically. “But I don't put much thought into what it does. Do _you_ think about what your pinky finger does all the time?”

 

“So that's like a pinky finger to you,” Loki repeats flatly, tilting his head to the side to catch a glimpse again. “What other pinky fingers do you have?”

 

“Do you really want to know or will you just freak out?” Thor asks and he's clearly annoyed.

 

“Well, I'm not saying I won't freak out. Why is it there now?” Once the initial shock has passed, Loki can't deny he's curious and maybe just the tiniest bit fascinated.

 

“I'm growing stronger,” Thor replies curtly and turns to open the oven. “I can now take on my true form.”

 

As he bends to pull the tray out, Loki gets a clear view of the tail sticking out from the back of Thor's shorts. It's twitching slightly in what looks like agitation.

 

Loki glances briefly at the tray as Thor tosses it onto the counter. Yup. Cookies.

 

“You have horns too, don't you,” he prompts.

 

“I do.”

 

Loki knows that, though he had successfully pushed the memory of Thor's inhuman shadow flashing across the wall of the basement from his mind.

 

“Well, I don't mind,” he announces, perhaps a bit too loudly. “As long as you can hide them away when you're in a suit.”

 

Thor snorts without humor. “Of course I can. Haven't you been listening to anything I've told you?”

 

A plate of brown, slightly misshaped cookies lands on the table in front of Loki, followed by two glasses of milk; one for Loki, one for Thor.

 

“So,” Thor starts, bright eyes boring into Loki's as he sits opposite him and folds his arms on the table, tail curling around his own biceps. “Me in a suit. Once I'm dressed for the part, how do I get money?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [See my blog for pictures and updates.](http://thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if-this-is-hell)


	16. thieves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm back, sorry for the wait!   
> As always thanks to Sam for such a quick betaread <3
> 
> As for this, well... clearly I won't ever be a criminal mastermind.

Loki is a frustrated ball of mixed exhaustion and excitement.

 

He's so tired he thinks he could sleep for a week, were he in an actual bed, but his body keeps his sluggish mind awake with spikes of adrenaline.

 

Once again the absurd remoteness of the cabin proved to be a problem, this time for him and Thor equally. After cooking up a rough shape of a plan, they discovered they simply needed more information, best afforded by a newspaper or, better yet, the internet.

 

That meant an hours long journey to a small town, sleeping in the pickup on their way to _yet another_ small town after they found what they were looking for, scouting the place, and then sleeping in the car _again._

 

Now, though, it’s finally time for action.

 

Oh, and let's not forget the ten orgasms per day that Thor wrung from him, on the side of the road in the muddy air of the cab of their pick up. Loki's cock is chaffed and his underwear soaked with slick, but Thor is practically buzzing with energy.

 

He sighs, dropping his head against the headrest and then turning it to look at Thor from the side.

 

“Stop purring. It will give you away.”

 

Thor looks at him and smiles. Even his eyes are glazed over a little and Loki really worries now whether he's in the right mindset for the thing he's going to do. It's not just Thor's satisfied, mellow mood: it's the energy he's giving off. Maybe it's just Loki being rather attuned to the shifts in him—shifts that feel very physical.

 

Thor needed power and Loki provided it with sweat, watery come, and, in the end, even tears.

 

Now it's time for Thor's part.

 

Their pickup is parked on the side of a wide road. The town may be small but this is the nicest part of it and they have a good view of several large houses. Winter is still ruling and the front yards look picture-perfect with the uninterrupted blanket of snow. No kids to disturb it with playing, clearly. It just plays into what they've learned. Their target is married but childfree and his neighbors are probably more of the same, perhaps with children already grown and moved away.

 

An SUV comes from behind the corner and Loki feels Thor beside him tense.

 

“He's home,” Thor murmurs, his demeanor changing. He looks like a cat ready to pounce.

 

“Should we wait to see if he stays put?”

 

“No,” Thor shakes his head and starts the engine. “Even if he goes somewhere we have enough of a headstart.”

 

It's a short drive to the bank. Thor parks behind the corner, and Loki quickly stuffs an old cap on his own head, shielding himself from any cameras that might pick them up.

 

Thor straightens in his seat and, with a gust of warm _something,_ he changes.

 

His face, hands, even his clothes and height, everything shifts into a very good image of the man, a retired politician, former mayor of the very town they're in and, most importantly, oil conglomerate trustee.

 

It's a low risk effort. If the teller won't let Thor-Mr. Edwards cash out without an ID, he will simply sheepishly leave, citing his forgetfulness and they will never come near the town. If he will be able to take hold of the funds, well... They’ll have enough to get what they need later from much bigger fish.

 

Thor's ability to take on a glamour that is vastly different from his own appearance is taxing for him but doable. Once they have the money and options to get fake IDs to go along with the range of faces that Thor can adapt to, they will be unstoppable. Anyone from loan sharks to the less respectable banks will be sad to discovered that the money they've lent will not be coming back, considering the new owner doesn't, in fact, exist. If necessary, Thor will play both the part of the one borrowing the money and the part of the person offering surety as well.

 

The one problem Loki has with this plan—both the imminent one and the long term one—is the lack of his own involvement. The success depends, for a lack of better word, on Thor's magic. Loki was the one to come up with the vague idea. Old fashioned robbing, the way they did it in the movies seemed too dangerous, but banks were still an attractive target. He also did the majority of the googling, biting down a laugh when he discovered Thor was largely computer illiterate.

 

But now all he can do is sit in the car and make sure he's not seen in case somebody actually ends up looking into the mystery of a respectable man not remembering he cleared out his checking account.

 

Thor grabs a bag and slips out of the car. Loki watches him, fascinated as he adopts the gait of an older man.

 

Even though the likeness is perfect to the eye, Loki somehow still knows that it's Thor rounding the corner and disappearing from view.

 

Then all that's left is waiting.

 

The past week was a whirlwind, and without Thor the car is eerily quiet. They've hardly been apart since the morning when they fully committed to their plans for the future.

 

_Their_ plans. Loki huffs to himself. That's his life now. Committing fraud with a demon. But as always, there's that treacherous voice at the back of his mind reminding him that this is better than anything he could have hoped for before he ran away. Before he met Thor.

 

He shifts in his seat, hissing when the movement drags his frilly, lacy underwear over his sore cock. The last time Thor brought him off, just before they parked to watch for the ex-mayor coming home, he used his mouth because Loki couldn't stand the touch of his hand anymore. He was so certain that he couldn't come again, but Thor proved him wrong, soothing the head with gentle tongue until Loki was squirming, and then taking him deep, his throat smoothly pulsing around the length.

 

He watches the digital clock on the dashboard like a hawk. Ten minutes pass, then fifteen. At twenty Loki gets antsy, but just under a half hour, Thor, his disguise still intact, appears and heads for the car unhurriedly. The bag in his hand is bulging and is ever so slightly weighing him down, the way it might an older man. Loki's heart leaps to his throat and he grabs the edges of his seat with both hands, willing himself to stay still.

 

Casually, Thor gets in, tossing the bag underneath Loki's feet. He keeps his glamour on as they drive off. Loki is breathless but he waits for Thor to speak first, to do something, his own anxious excitement stopping him from unleashing a barrage of questions.

 

As they pass the town limit, the glamour melts off, and Loki finds himself staring at the familiar, handsome face.

 

“So?”

 

“I think the town is about to experience a scandal like never before,” Thor says evenly. “The teller dug up every dollar they had in the safe to try and match Mr. Edwards's considerable balance, excited beyond words to be the first to assume he is about the run off with his mistress.”

 

It takes a second for Thor's words to sink in.

 

Then Loki bursts out laughing.

 

* * *

 

The cabin is familiar and the familiarity is welcome. Loki puts off his perusal of the money in favor of a shower; after days spent in the car, it’s needed, especially considering Thor's earlier attentions. The water takes forever to warm up, but when it does it's bliss, and Loki relaxes underneath the hot spray, letting a sort of giddiness overcome him. They've done it. They've really done it—they took the money.

 

It's something over two-hundred thousand. Not a fortune in the long run, no, but certainly enough to get them started and certainly more than Loki could ever envision himself having.

 

In the kitchen, Thor welcomes him with a bowl of hot soup and the smell of frozen pizza merrily baking away in the oven.

 

Loki grins.

 

“That's quite a party you're throwing.”

 

“You haven't seen the lot of it,” Thor laughs. “I appreciate the value of keeping low profile, but I've been known to host wonderful celebrations.”

 

“Hold that thought,” Loki says before blowing on his spoon, cooling the soup. “I'll want to see that later.”

 

“And so you will.”

 

After he's eaten, Loki sits cross-legged on the floor with the duffel bag in front of him. He opens it carefully and starts taking the neat stacks of money out.

 

“Wow,” he whispers, fingers gliding over the texture of the paper. “We really did it.”

 

Thor told him how it had gone—about the teller who didn't have a thought to spare for IDs or questions, chatting Mr. Edwards up as he asked for his balance and how much funds the bank was able to provide him on such short notice. About how he signed a slip with a broad hand, pretending to squirm when the teller asked if everything was alright with the missus.

 

“Do you think there are people who know?” Loki asks, deep in thought. What if the news of what happened is a big red flag to someone, somewhere? What if what they did invites some sort of men in black suits to flood into Idaho and start asking questions? “About you and others like you, I mean.”

 

Thor hesitates, leaning against the table with his arms crossed.

 

“It's possible, if the others are less than discreet,” he concedes eventually. “Times are changing. In the past, religion played a bigger role than it does now, at least in these parts of the world, and I've mostly stuck to Europe or the Americas. It's where I blend in better. We were, still are, the very thing every believer was warned about. But nowadays, who knows. I wouldn't be surprised to learn some fool tried to gather a human following of sorts.”

 

Loki recalls all the vampire novels and TV shows with all kinds of creature hunters, and silently agrees with Thor.

 

“They might manage it too,” he offers. “People get into creepy shit.”

 

“Not you,” Thor smiles sharply at him and Loki straightens, dropping a stack of notes he's been tossing back and forth.

 

“I didn't have many opportunities to be _edgy_.”

 

“Would you like to?” Thor cocks his head. “Soon enough you'll have the opportunity to become someone new.”

 

“No need to butter me up,” Loki snaps, weirdly annoyed. “I'm already on board.”

 

Thor just looks at him quietly, one eyebrow subtly raised.

 

“You always seem to expect dishonesty from me.”

 

Loki opens his mouth to deny it and promptly closes it again.

 

“There were times when you were really secretive. Or when you did something freaky without warning me first.”

 

“That's not quite the same as lying though, is it,” Thor points out, spreading his arms and shrugging.

 

“It's close enough to be really annoying.” Loki will stand his ground on this. He is very familiar with the murky gray area of half-truths, omissions, and conveniently un-denied assumptions.

 

“Alright then.” Thor blinks at him for a moment. “Come to bed?”

 

* * *

 

Loki flops onto the mattress, groaning. Thor is right at his heels, casually bending down to take off Loki's socks and then his shorts. Loki cooperates only minimally, raising his hips so that Thor can drag the fabric down and then somewhat helping be rid of his camisole too.

 

Thor turns off the lights and gets into bed with him afterwards, pressing his six feet and ridiculously many inches of hot skin to Loki. Loki's stomach rolls a little at the idea of more sex. It's been only hours and no real rest since that exhausting marathon of orgasms.

 

Thor tugs him close and they settle into their usual position: legs entwined and Loki's head pillowed on Thor's shoulders with Thor's arms securely around his waist.

 

“Sleep,” Thor murmurs into his hair. “It's been a rough couple of days.”

 

Loki breathes out, stupidly grateful.

 

Thor tsks at him in reproach, and Loki's eyes fly open despite his tiredness. “What?”

 

“There you go again, expecting the worst of me.”

 

Loki supposes his relief was quite obvious, and he scowls at Thor in the darkness. “Your whining about me not thinking you're a fucking angel is going to get real old real soon.”

 

Thor laughs and kisses his temple. “I'm sorry, you're right. But still. I know you need rest. I wasn't planning on keeping it from you.”

 

“You're keeping it from me now,” Loki points out, but he's feeling pleasantly warm all over. “Be quiet and let me sleep.”

 

And Thor does.

 

 


	17. princess

Loki doesn't think that Thor really sleeps, but he seems at rest now, breathing deeply, his eyes closed and a small smile curving his lips.

 

For his part, Loki is struck by a rare spell of insomnia (perhaps because he has slept in quite drastically after they've gotten back), leaning propped up against the slightly squeaky headboard of the large bed he and Thor have been sharing for weeks now.

 

He listens to the heavy quiet.

 

There is the occasional hum caused by the fireplace that is still burning in the living room and sometimes the old electrical water heater creaks, but beyond, there is nothing but near darkness and the low hush brought on by abundance of snow.

 

Loki is very conscious of it.

 

Twice now he has left this place only to come back, not kicking and screaming, but just tired and stiff, vaguely thinking with some sort of longing about this very bed.

 

It makes him think about the first time Thor showed his claws, so to speak, turning from the not-so-altruistic truck driver into someone really, really dangerous.

 

How do people act when they're torn away from what they want, uprooted, scared? When they fear for their lives, acutely aware that pain, terror and misery awaits?

 

And most importantly, if Loki didn't react as those people would, what does that make him? Why is he like that?

 

Very slowly, he becomes aware that while he's been staring at Thor, completely lost in his own thoughts, Thor has come awake – or more awake – and is looking at him quietly in turn.

 

“Was I stupid to come back here with you?” It falls from Loki's lips as though he's dreaming.

 

He hears Thor's sharp intake of breath, and he also hears as it dissolves into nothing, more silence. Loki fills it in:

 

“No, I had to come back, you wouldn't allow anything else. But was I stupid to come back happily and willingly?”

 

Thor sits up, dragging himself above the bedding so that he can look at Loki in the dull glow of the night-light.

 

“No. No, you weren't.”

 

Loki waits, pulling his knees up, playing with an edge of an pillow just to have something to do with his hands.

 

“You weren't, because I care about you more than anyone has ever cared about you in your life. It's not stupid to remain with me.”

 

Loki's breath hitches when he hears that.

 

“Oh fuck you, Thor.”

 

He tosses the pillow away, turning. Fuck, that hurts. That really hurts, to hear the blunt words, spoken by this strange man, and to know they're true.

 

Loki breathes through it, allows himself to take a couple of minutes, feeling Thor's unwavering attention at his back. He'd sit there, motionless, waiting for a drop of honest feeling, for hours. Even though he's not looking at Thor right now and even though Thor isn't sporting any of his unnerving animal characteristics, Loki feels like he has a curious animal behind him, perked up and guilelessly awaiting what Loki will do.

 

“You know, I should... I should tell you that you're wrong, that my mom cared. I mean, that's what moms do, yeah?” Loki chuckles. It's not funny. “But I had this decent counselor once, they fired her pretty quickly because she cared too much about the kids and not enough about the school looking good.”

 

He talks, staring into his blanket covered lap, aware of the intense, almost vibrating – though no purring is involved – attention Thor is giving him.

 

“And she told me that anyone who doesn't care how hurt you are is the same as the person hurting you.”

 

“Do you believe that?” Thor asks. He's quiet, his tone almost neutral, but he is two thousand years old. He has to have seen an incredible amount of suffering.

 

Loki turns. He finds Thor staring at him earnestly, blue eyes wide. “I do. In my case, I do.”

 

Then Thor cups his cheeks, leaning forward. “I would go there and punish them. Or him, at least. I could do that.”

 

He nods a little as he says it, as though trying to convince both himself and Loki that that's the right thing to do.

 

Loki imagines it:

 

Thor, pulling up in the pickup at the mostly quiet, but dirty street that used to be his home. If there is anyone looking out onto the street from their old kitchens or smoking out on the front porch, gazing emptily around, they notice him. Notice his blond hair, notice his height, just how broad he is. But most of all, they notice the way he carries himself, sure, strong and more than a touch angry.

 

Then he knocks – more like pounds – on the peeling yellow door of the small two-bedroom house that Loki used to think he'd die in and Laufey opens the door, his thin face pulled into a sneer, because he doesn't yet know what's going to happen.

 

Loki leaves the fantasy at that. Perhaps one day he will revisit it.

 

Perhaps Thor will still extend the offer.

 

He fights past the rather firm grip that Thor has on his face and kisses him, briefly, but decisively.

 

That simple act puts him to sleep better than hours of staring into the dark did and he welcomes it, letting himself almost fall to the bed and then dragging the sheets around himself lazily, aware of Thor helping him slightly before he curls around Loki's back, offering his warmth as usual.

 

And Loki takes it.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, some of the brisk pragmatism returns to Loki – the money is there, the future is there.

 

He would say he's in a great mood, or actually he at least acts like it, humming as he helps Thor make some food.

 

“Hey,” he says, inspiration coming out of nowhere. “Were you ever around for some really famous historical events? Like, I don't know the Pompeii thing or something.”

 

Thor looks over at him from where he's chopping up some onions, smiling. “Let's see...”

 

Loki hops up onto the kitchen table, crossing his ankles, grinning. This has got to be good.

 

“Well, I was there when Lothair proclaimed himself the emperor.”

 

Silence falls over the small kitchen as Thor says this triumphantly, holding up the knife seemingly in excitement. Loki blinks.

 

And blinks again.

 

“Who?”

 

They gaze at each other in disbelief and Loki shakes it off, slightly annoyed. Is Thor joking?

 

“He was the Holy Roman Emperor. Well, he wasn't really, that was the problem, there were-”

 

“Okay, okay, okay.” Loki stops him. “When was this?”

 

Thor squints, his knife still pointed towards the ceiling. “Eighth century? No, ninth.”

 

Loki huffs out a laugh, mostly to hide how awkward he feels. “You're sweet. You're really, really sweet.”

 

“Why?” Thor looks genuinely baffled, staring at Loki with those comically wide eyes, once again resembling a confused cat.

 

“Nevermind, just... I never heard of that guy, emperor or no. How come you were around?”

 

“I married his sister.”

 

It's weird. It shouldn't happen. Loki has heard quite a bit about Jane, Thor's latest. He knows how they met, what she was probably like, and it was tumultuous to hear about the fate of someone that was the in the position he is in now for the first time.

 

But now there is some ninth century princess and it feels like a cold hand squeezing Loki's insides.

 

“Her name was Adelaide,” Thor goes on. “She was probably of the highest rank from anyone I have ever married. It was not easy to fashion a position important enough to justify the joining. But those were very hard times, unpredictable, so I managed to slip in, led by curiosity more than anything else. And then I met her.”

 

A sister of the Holy Roman Emperor. Loki sits, letting that sink in. He has, after a brief moment of total blankness, realized what Thor was talking about. Europe, sure. That thing happening after Rome fell apart and before Europe shaped up into all the countries it has now. He knows that's still a big gap, too big, but he also knows his limitations.

 

Thor doesn't continue with his story, apparently noticing Loki's odd mood. He couldn't explain it himself if he tried, this weird onslaught of feeling inadequate.

 

And he definitely doesn't want Thor to start poking and prodding, as he is sometimes wont to do.

 

“Yeah, let's pick out an era I'm more familiar with next time,” he says, forcing a laugh. “I'm hungry, let's finish this?”

 

He can _feel_ Thor's eyes on him as he jumps down from the table, aiming from casual, but probably failing as he randomly grabs a can of something he thinks they are supposed to put into the sauce.

 

For once, thankfully, Thor lets it go. They cook mostly in silence, only exchanging words about what they are doing and gradually, Loki starts to feel a bit more at ease.

 

It's fine. He should have known that Thor's stories would involve _his humans_ , it was inevitable. He just wasn't ready to hear it, wasn't ready to hear him talk about emperors and princesses in a time that is as removed and foreign to Loki as though it was a fairytale.

 

His mind keeps snagging on the way he fails to imagine it all.

 

“Won't you be bored with me?”

 

A beat.

 

He just blurted it out before he could even realize it was what he was thinking.

 

“Why would I be bored with you?” Thor replies, voice measured and casual. He leans on the kitchen counter, arms casually folded.

 

“A princess? Really? Or wait, was that was she was called? Or was she an empresses?”

 

Thor moves so fast he becomes a blur to Loki's eyes. Then he is right in Loki's space, pushing him back against the wall, eyes glowing. A small cry escapes Loki's lips as he thinks for a second he has enraged Thor, but then-

 

The purr is back on and Thor slides his hands, so warm, always so warm, down Loki's arms.

 

“If I thought you were interested in hearing it, I would tell you about all the ways she screamed in pleasure in our marital bed at night, but constantly prayed, in tears, in the daylight. And the embroidering. The _fucking_ embroidering.”

 

His breath hitches in Loki's throat. He's pressed to the wall, Thor crowding him there with his intense, heavy presence, emitting that kind of energy that Loki has become so attuned to.

 

“So you _didn't_ love all of them.”

 

Thor takes a half step back, releasing him.

 

“What are you asking me?”

 

“Nothing.” It sounds like a spit, but Loki means it. It wasn't a question.

 

Thor watches him closely, his gaze seemingly cataloging every inch of his face, of his posture.

 

Why is Thor so on edge, Loki doesn't know, but then again, he also doesn't know why _he_ is so on edge.

 

Who Thor loved, who he didn't. What people he choose to take, the lives he has lived, it should not matter.

 

What should matter is that they have an understanding, they have a plan. They have put the plan in motion and the bag of cash that sits in one of the rooms upstairs is a testament to that.

 

Loki pushes away from the wall, hooking his fingers at the waistband of Thor's jeans, pulling him forward a little.

 

He pitches his voice low. Low and smooth. “Can you get hard just because I tell you to? Just because I tell you I will blow you?”

 

Without looking away from Thor's face, Loki edges his fingers along the waistband until he finds the button and he flicks it open; the zipper follows.

 

Thor is staring him down in a way that would be scary if it wasn't so obviously filled with control and almost awe, or at the very least, patience. Oh, Loki still feels the danger, of course. They're both piqued, ruffled, ready to claw and argue at a moment's notice.

 

Loki makes sure that doesn't happen by sinking to his knees.

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he doesn't know what he's thinking. Since he's done this in the car, he always knew he would do it again, but he thought it would happen messily, even passionately, in bed, with Thor, playful, coaching him again.

 

He didn't envision it in a brightly lit kitchen, done for reasons in his own head that he absolutely doesn't understand, on his knees.

 

It's the same taste as before, slightly bitter, mostly just jarring, but the angle is different. It feels safer but also heavier like this, the weight on his tongue, the presence in his mouth that he might or might not accept, depending on how far forward he leans. But, what he has asked Thor, it was delivered. He opened his jeans to find him hard, eager for Loki to do this.

 

Whatever is going on, he knows that he likes this fact.

 

He dutifully wraps a hand around Thor's cock while he braces the other on still jean-clad thigh and he tries for a rhythm, mouth puckered, sliding back and forth along the hard length.

 

Thor breathes above him and Loki is aware of the quickening exhales, a mostly rare testament to what Thor is feeling. It makes him go harder, push himself more, swallow against the feeling of intrusion in his throat. The hand he has wrapped around Thor gets wet with his own spit and with the slick drops that Loki is tasting and he uses it too, gleeful at the thought that Thor won't be able to stand the stimulation for too long.

 

And he, indeed, doesn't. With a low moan, Thor places his hands on Loki's head, fingers sliding into his hair and while he's not pulling, or pushing, or forcing, the presence is definitely there. It makes Loki's thighs press together, clenching at the inevitability of his own slick arousal.

 

When Thor comes, soon after, it's like a challenge and Loki opens his eyes, staring up Thor's chest, watching the way his face scrunches up in pleasure, then twitches as Loki sucks harshly on the head.

 

He wants to see Thor see _him_ swallowing it all down and then trying to get more.

 

As though reading his mind, Thor does look down, thumbing Loki's cheek before letting his hand slide down to very loosely wrap it along Loki's neck.

 

He takes that as a cue, swallowing, feeling his throat work against the light pressure of Thor's palm.

 

Thor grunts and Loki grins around his cock.

 

_Princess Adelaide who?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Adelaide de Tours, for the historically unfounded shit written about you in this chapter.
> 
> But, more importantly, so sorry to all of you for not updating this for so damn long :(


	18. Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Fishie!

Loki knows it's coming.

 

He remembers the last time he questioned Thor, spluttering when he, with that weird naiveté of his asked Loki _why did it matter_ , but then told him anyway: _a couple of weeks. It wouldn't hurt, because he would be ready._

 

And Loki knows that he is being _readied_.

 

Thinking about it pragmatically, he is content. Excited, even. Because this is what he wants, he wants to finish the transition because Thor has named it to be the condition of them leaving the cabin.

 

But it's hard to think pragmatically now. It's hard to think at all.

 

Thor has him on the rug before the fireplace, two pillows stuffed underneath his hips, legs spread.

 

And he's been thoroughly fingered for over an hour.

 

Before, Thor pushed him down on his back and took Loki's cock into his mouth, teasing him with rough licks, pulling back anytime it was starting to get _really_ good, until Loki was squirming, wetness dripping from him. Only then did Thor finish him off, instantly turning him over and sliding one finger inside with no resistance at all, all that goddamn, fucked up slick making it so easy for him.

 

And since then it's just been the slow rhythm of two long fingers going in and out, blushingly intimate and intense, but growingly not enough.

 

Loki hides his face by tucking his head underneath his crossed arms where he is lying down, huffing. He wants to come again.

 

“I don't like this anymore,” he complains, voice muffled, and wriggles his ass to show what he means. It jostles Thor's fingers inside of him and he has to bite down a groan.

 

“Really?”

 

Loki can hear the infuriating smile in Thor's voice and he turns, craning his neck. And he was right, Thor is kneeling, naked, hair hanging in messy wave around his face, and he's smiling widely. Before Loki can reply, he withdraws his fingers and rubs his knuckles over Loki's hole, the touch sensual and a little odd.

 

“I'm bored and I want to come.”

 

It seems impossible, but Thor's grin grows even wider. “And you call that bored?”

 

A snap of a thought, instant, but so obvious, dawns on Loki. What the hell is he trying to reason with Thor for?

 

Taking advantage of the fact that Thor's fingers aren't buried deep inside his ass for the first time in over an hour, Loki rolls to the side quickly, coming up to his knees and all but lunging for Thor. He wraps his fingers around the strands of Thor's hair and leans in to press a hurried, messy kiss to Thor's lips. He's uncoordinated, head spinning a little bit with how quickly he got up and he almost misses, kissing the corner of Thor's mouth with his lips parted too much and he scrambles, one hand leaving Thor's hair to prop against Thor's chest. It's warm and smooth beneath his fingers and he shifts to kiss Thor properly.

 

It thrills him, the thought that he can derail Thor like this. That Thor has set up a plan, that he expects Loki to lie down and pant for it – which, okay, he did for a while – but that Loki can do _this._

 

Both of Thor's arms come around him, enveloping him tightly. It feels more like a hug than a sensual embrace and Loki grows a bit uncertain when Thor breaks the kiss to nuzzle Loki's neck, squeezing him even tighter. Thor's erection is pressed against him, but that means next to nothing.

 

It's not all that complicated to get Thor hard, as he's had ample time to learn.

 

He opts to redouble his efforts.

 

Led by the same flash of inspiration as before, he sinks his teeth into the skin of Thor's neck.

 

It feels _good_. He knows he's not doing any damage, but if anything, that just lets him bite harder, relishing in the novel feeling even as Thor stills against him, making a little sound at the back of his throat. Loki gropes between them to find Thor's nipples and when he does, he thumbs one, learning how to pinch the small nub between his thumb and index finger. That really makes Thor grunt then and he pulls back, catching Loki by the shoulders.

 

Loki smiles up at him sweetly. “I want you.”

 

Thor's nostrils flare as he sucks in a breath.

 

Loki presses on. “Please.”

 

Thor palms his cheek before grasping his chin with a warning hint of pressure, gaze dropping to Loki's mouth.

 

It should be nerve-wracking.

 

An ancient demon, naked, eyes blazing is watching him like he's good enough to eat, their erections brushing as they kneel close enough to touch and here he is, teasing and pleading for it.

 

When did it become like that? When did he start feeling fearless in Thor's company?

 

“Don't you want me?”

 

“Don't push it,” Thor growls.

 

“I'm not,” Loki protests, uncaring that he's openly overdoing it. It's part of the thrill, to know that he can be blatantly baiting Thor and still get away with it. He reaches down to stroke his own cock. “I just really, really want you to make me come.”

 

It's like a dance.

 

Thor grabs Loki's wrist and pulls his hand away.

 

In return, Loki leans forward to rub himself against Thor's thigh.

 

Thor puts him on his back.

 

Loki spreads his legs.

 

Somewhere along the way, they both started to pant. And Loki has also lost sight of what it was that he was doing.

 

And that's probably why, when Thor wraps one hand around his cock and uses the other to start fingering him again, he just arches up and moans, lost to it.

 

It burns a little, despite the wetness. He's rapidly approaching a state of being overworked, the muscles and soft skin protesting, but somehow, combined with the skilled movements of Thor's hands on his cock, it melts into something entirely amazing.

 

“Faster,” he says, voice teetering on the edge between desperate and demanding. It's only when _both_ of Thor's hands speed up what they're doing that Loki yelps, stuck between needing to arch into it and between escaping the way Thor is harshly finger-fucking him now. His hand flies over Loki's cock and it's amazing, _so_ amazing, but his ass is squeezing around the intrusive presence of Thor's fingers and he shivers all over, his confused senses not knowing what to do with any of it anymore.

 

It gets even worse when Thor changes the angle and starts brushing the spot that he's only barely flicked at today, but now seems determined to give his attention to.

 

He runs a thumb over the head of Loki's cock and thrusts his fingers in, hitting the spot head on. In the one drawn one second before Loki starts coming, he thinks with pity on all those humans Thor had before him who had been taught that pleasure was sin.

 

* * *

 

All the sex makes him hungry and he likes Thor's cooking, especially now that they are stocked pretty much to the roof.

 

Seeing the tasty meal in front of him makes him think about the house and how comfortable it is despite being so remote. And seeing as he has a heaping plate of hot food to chow down and Thor is just standing around, tidying, he doesn't see a reason why he shouldn't ask.

 

“How did you get this cabin?”

 

“I bought it after Jane died,” Thor says, tone very neutral. Loki just nods. To be fair, he expected something like this.

 

In fact, he's learning a lot about Thor. He decides to test the limits of his knowledge.

 

“You wanted a place you could hole up in. You wanted something safe, away from people, in case you weren't in the mood to deal with them.”

 

Thor looks at him, his hands stilled where he was holding a pot and drying it. Loki weathers the long, searching look, simply because he instinctively knows he was right.

 

“Yes,” Thor admits eventually. “Quite like that.”

 

Loki eats a couple more bites, then speaks again. “And the clothes, you know, what I'm wearing? They are older than that.”

 

This, at least, Thor seems to have no issue talking about. He nods, putting the pot away to its place in the cupboard. “I used to have some places all over the country where I had some necessities stashed away. I started using deposit boxes as soon as they were invented. When I bought this place, I started to pick some of them up and brought them here.”

 

“So...” Loki hums. “You _did_ actually put me into the old clothes of some of your old catches.”

 

He just says it. He's not sure he even minds terribly, after all, he has long gotten used to the weird lingerie that makes up most of his outfits these days. But it surprises him when Thor turns sheepish and laughs.

 

“No, I... I'm sorry, you might think this is even worse.” He looks at Loki a little warily, though a smile is still playing on his lips. “It's, uh, sort of a vintage collection of someone I had in the twenties. She mostly didn't wear them.”

 

Oh no, Thor is wrong. That's not worse in Loki's eyes. A giggle escapes him.

 

Fuck, why is he so _happy_ today?

 

“That's good actually. And you, being the ancient fucker that you are, are into them, right?”

 

Thor shrugs, giving Loki a fond smile. “Something like that.”

 

Loki eats, lazily thinking about all the things he could ask. “There's something you gotta like about the modern times, though.”

 

Thor cocks his head, seemingly thinking about it really hard. Unexpectedly, Loki finds himself struck by this. Thor really wants to give him a thoughtful answer. Because his question was considered and welcomed.

 

“I do like cars. I have my own means of travel when I have power to spare, but... yes. I did enjoy trucking.”

 

Loki smiles. This, too, he can understand. Thor can probably do something crazy, like fly or teleport or whatnot, but he enjoys a good road-trip.

 

“Also, if I feel like eating, I enjoy the food nowadays.”

 

Staring a little past Loki and towards the opposing wall, clearly deep in thought, Thor keeps talking. For a guy who says he dislikes this era, he sure has a lot of things he likes.

 

“Art, perhaps. In the last two centuries I was around a lot of social circles where the appreciation of art was crucial, so I learned a lot. I enjoy it.”

 

“That's not so modern,” Loki interrupts. “I mean, I'd love to hear that, but like... why not computers? Phones? Planes?”

 

“It goes by too quickly,” Thor says, spreading his arms in a little shrug. “There were times when I could live two, three lives with essentially nothing changing. Now it's impossible.”

 

Sometimes, maybe quite often, Loki wishes his head didn't work like that. Thor has said nothing wrong, but Loki feels his good mood deflating. His imagination kicks in: himself, old. Thor is perhaps superficially aged to match Loki's looks, the way he's shown him he can, but Loki knows what's underneath. Around them is a sleek, sterile megacity, like they always show in sci-fi movies. Loki fumbles with his new phone, not understanding how the damn thing works.

 

Because he's too old. And his life has gone by too fast.

 

And then he sees Thor, youthful again, entering a high-tech café and charming some new victim.

 

Another life for him.

 

“I've upset you.” The _again_ remains unspoken.

 

Loki barks out a laugh. “No, no, that's not you. That's just... life.”

 

“What's wrong?” It's surprising how softly Thor can speak when he chooses to. It makes Loki inclined to reply honestly.

 

“I just never really thought about it. Getting old.”

 

The slightly confused look that he spies on Thor's face when he looks up reminds him that Thor wasn't exactly present for the part of conversation that went on in Loki's head only.

 

He tries to wave it away. “It's fine.”

 

Then he has to fight hard not to squirm under Thor's piercing gaze. Finally Thor seems to let up and Loki breathes out in relief. Thor steps towards him, stroking his cheek lightly. “What do you say to a walk and then a hot drink in front of the fireplace?”

 

Relieved that Thor has let it go, Loki grins. “Is that all we'll be doing in front of the fireplace?”

 

Thor's teeth flash. “Of course not.”

 

* * *

 

_She watches the mortal, pleased. It is cold here, and barren, and it is a wonder these peoples survive here, but somehow they do, with fires and furs and fish brought up from the cold sea. She is used to warmth and dignified, thoughtful cultures, but every now and then She yearns for more freedom. When the chants and prayers and little hieroglyphs to keep her away become just a tad too annoying._

 

_This mortal is unlike those she knows from the south, he is pale and golden haired. Striking, amidst dirt and misery._

 

_It is not hard for Her to transform Her_ _form into something that blends in; after all, She belongs to no silly human culture, She is Her own._

 

_She will catch his eye in a simple way, the way they prefer it here. Perhaps She will hand him a fish. The next day She will bring the carcass of a small, furry animal to him, asking him to skin it for her. She has been observing, She knows._

 

_Her steps bring Her through the trees, towards the village. She will soon insert Herself into a household, citing familial ties with one of the poor villagers She will easy confuse._

 

_This is Her plan, until She hears the roar of his laugh._

 

_It should not touch Her. Her own skin is always vibrating with Her power, Her breath always hot. She should not shiver in this manner when She hears a mortal laugh._

 

_That can only mean one thing._

 

_He is not meant to be mortal forever._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for sticking by even though the previous chapter came after so, so long. Here's one much quicker!
> 
> Comments always appreciated and assorted imagery for this fic can be found [here](http://thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if-this-is-hell).


	19. chains

They've run out of firewood.

 

Loki is a little taken aback when Thor says it, bringing in a couple of logs from the front porch and tossing them to the large basket next to the hearth.

 

Thor chuckles. “Don't look so worried. I will just go and chop some more.”

 

Loki rolls his eyes to hide that he really was worried for a second. Despite the fact that they must be pushing the end of February, if not March already, the winter shows no signs of letting up. Snow, snow and more snow, along with howling cold wind.

 

But they have a roaring fire and a warm bed and decently hot water.

 

Loki is on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and reading one of his paperbacks, which he lets hang limply from his fingers as he watches Thor put on his boots and jackets; he hasn't worn that much clothing since they've been in town.

 

“I'm gonna go a bit up the hill and take down a tree there. I'm certain I saw some dead ones, the dry wood will burn better.”

 

The implication of it catches Loki's attention.

 

“You're gonna take down an entire tree?”

 

Thor zips up his jacket and looks at Loki from underneath his eyelashes. “Yeah.”

 

The throb is brief, but it's unmistakably there. Thor pauses shortly and Loki tears his gaze away, knowing he's probably blushing.

 

Fuck, okay, so it's hot that Thor is going to tear down an entire tree with his bare hands. Whatever. That would turn almost anyone on. And besides, this thing where he gets wet is even more finely tuned than hormonal boners are.

 

He breathes out when Thor finally turns and walks out the front door. His head falls back against the couch and he feels himself hovering on the edge of falling into really shitty mood, but the thing is, he doesn't _want_ to feel bad.

 

Thor could probably distract him. It would go one of the two ways – he'd piss Loki off with finality, the way he's still perfectly capable of doing despite their improved relationship, or he'd cheer him up, with some interesting tale or a sappy claim. Or, of course, he'd push Loki down into the mattress and suck him off, or eat him out, or finger him until-

 

Loki pauses, throwing a look at the door that has only just shut behind Thor. Even if you are a supernaturally strong demon, taking down a tree and chopping it all up into pieces small enough to fit into a nice cozy little fireplace takes some time, right?

 

He tosses his book away, hands sliding underneath the blanket. He's never felt more illicit doing this than now. _Before_ , he was afraid of having his privacy invaded, of having yet another _fault_ of his thrown in his face, but this... the danger makes him hotter instead of souring the sensation, the way it always did before, turning all of his jerk-offs into something basely physical, done only to let out steam.

 

And of course, this time he knows he doesn't just need to touch his cock.

 

In fact, it occurs to him that he never did explore the changes in him on his own. Oh, Thor's done plenty to him, but...

 

He pulls down his shorts underneath the blankets and sits against the back of the couch, legs spread and inching his way down until his hips are canted up and he can wrap one hand around his hardening cock and slide the other lower, behind his balls, and lower.

 

It shocks him how easily his finger slips in. It's wet and slick, and the rim parts under the pressure, even though Loki feels the ever-present tightness of the muscle around his finger.

 

It doesn't feel as nice as when Thor does it, his fingers longer, thicker, and reaching into him at a better angle, but the excitement of doing this makes up for it. And so does slowly tightening his grip around his cock and sliding down.

 

He likes it, but there's something missing and, acting on instinct, he pulls out his finger and swipes his hand through the wetness, bringing it up to his cock.

 

_Ooh._

 

Yes, that's good. His hands are a mess now, slick, and it feels _dirty,_ but he also couldn't care less, in fact, it adds to the whole feeling. He slips two fingers inside of himself, finding the added stretch to be absolutely amazing, a perfect counter-point to the hand now very easily sliding over his cock.

 

Pleasure – sexual pleasure – has become something he enjoys plenty of these days, but now that he thinks about it, being alone isn't. But he can't lie to himself: the throb of pleasure, the extra spark of something unusual and well, naughty, isn't coming from the sensation of his own hands, of certain privacy that this moment affords, it's coming from the idea that he _can_ do this now, but that Thor is out there, not far and he will come back soon, crowding Loki on the couch, slipping underneath the blanket with his jeans so cold and rough from the chill outside, and he will pull Loki onto his lap. The fantasy unfurls in Loki's mind effortlessly as he jerks himself off, wanting to come but also drawing it out, forcing himself to slow down while he explores what it feels like to finger his own slick ass.

 

He's used to only knowing the sensation from one end, with Thor's fingers in him, and it's surprisingly erotic to also feel the pulse of his muscles fluttering without any conscious thought on his part, and the heat and the wetness of it.

 

He can see why Thor likes it.

 

Part of him just wants to bring himself off, the feeling is already _that_ sweet, but then again, orgasms really aren't rare for him and so he keeps on experimenting. Tilting his hips even more, curling on himself so much that breathing is a little uncomfortable, he crooks his fingers upwards and looks for that spot that Thor hits so well. It doesn't seem to work, the angle frustrating and he huffs in disappointment.

 

He's just about ease his fingers out and finish jerking off when the door opens.

 

One thing is instantly clear when Loki turns, startled, and meets Thor's eyes: Thor already knows what Loki is doing.

 

And he's not happy.

 

Watching Thor advance on him is like a flashback to something that never happened but he always vaguely feared it would: touching himself and getting caught. Getting hurt for it.

 

But it still takes Thor a couple of seconds before he reaches Loki and the truth is, Loki is not really that scared boy anymore.

 

Loki has been taught some tricks since then.

 

He grins, tossing the blanket away despite very much enjoying its warmth, and lets his knees fall open, showing Thor _everything_. The teasing grip he has on his cock, the mess of wet slick behind his balls.

 

“Hello.” He tries for sultry but by that time, Thor is already upon him, crowding him on the couch, eyes blazing. The words turns into a yelp when Thor catches him underneath his knees and yanks him forward until his ass is hanging off the edge of the couch and his neck is bent awkwardly against the backseat.

 

His grip unforgiving, Thor opens Loki's legs even wider and slips one hand in between, searching.

 

“What did you do?”

 

Loki's stomach drops. What the fuck is Thor's problem?

 

“I don't know, I just... I mean-”

 

What he means is that it's pretty obvious what he's been doing. The only thing not clear is why Thor is bothered by it. Inspiration strikes. “Getting ready for you.”

 

Thor cocks his head. It's something he does quite often, trying to figure out what Loki is saying to him, but this different. There's a tilt to his eyebrow and hardness in his eyes.

 

“Don't lie to me.”

 

Everything in Loki prickles and a flush of humiliation makes him angry; he's stupidly exposed, the wetness cooling and drying between his cheeks, no longer even remotely arousing.

 

“What is your problem?”

 

“I thought we understood each other. Your pleasure is mine to provide.”

 

“You never said I couldn't-”

 

“And why would you? Do I not provide enough? I can certainly do more. It won't go to waste.”

 

Loki wrenches himself away with force. His muscles are protesting and he probably pulled something in his neck, but he suddenly can't bear for Thor to touch him.

 

_Stupid_. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

 

He blindly gropes for his clothing, failing to find any and in the end he just snatches the blanket wrapping it around himself and pushing past Thor.

 

Horror, true _horror_ fills him when Thor doesn't move out of his way, replaced only fractionally by relief when Thor at least doesn't prevent him from sneaking past him. The idea of Thor making him- touching him, right then and there is scary in a way it never was before.

 

He dashes up the stairs and into one of the empty rooms; a false sanctuary. There he drops to the floor, shaking and trying to pull the blanket closer.

 

So _stupid_.

 

And the worst part is, he can't even really blame Thor. Oh, he can hate him, but he can't say he deceived Loki, no, that was all Loki himself.

 

Thor _told_ him that he fed on Loki's pleasure, back when the hot licks of every orgasm Thor pulled out of him were still filling him with so much shame. And Loki knew, he _saw_ with his own eyes how it worked when they were out there, stealing money and Thor made him come so many darn times in order to maintain his glamor. He was there for all of Thor's freaky changes, his tail, his blazing eyes.

 

And he let himself be pulled in by the soft purring and the warm embraces as Thor spooned him in bed, the little pricks and pushes as Thor asked him what he wanted from life, who he _was._

 

And he let himself become jealous of people long dead, disliking the thought of any wealth and sophistication they brought into Thor's life, when Loki had literally nothing to his name.

 

A thought emerges: they are still in the cabin.

 

Loki tightens the blanket around himself and looks around at the bare, dusty wooden walls of this house in Nowhere, Idaho.

 

He knows that Thor isn't human. He saw too much to doubt that.

 

But the rest? Tales. Tales and promises.

 

Thor promised him a life of companionship. That was the sweet lure, not the sex, not even the money. But someone who would always be there for Loki, bound to him, with Loki's well-being and pleasure in the fore-front of his mind always. And Loki swallowed it, the same way he willingly swallowed Thor's come, enticed by the promise of excitement and adventure and luxury.

 

Maybe he _does_ blame Thor for this.

 

_You told yourself you weren't going to fall into Thor's fantasy but it took him weeks, if not days to tear you down._

 

It's sobering. And it _hurts_.

 

He was thinking about it like it was about sex. Like it was about a _relationship._ Obviously he had no experience with either, but he knew enough; enough to fear rape, enough to long for someone to be kind to him.

 

But in this, Thor coming for him, eyes blazing, _inspecting_ Loki's hole – oh and here's the humiliated blush again – so angry that Loki was touching himself, in this Loki finally sees how it is.

 

It's not about sex. It's about _feeding._

 

He's a meal. Always was, always will be.

 

The rest is just bare minimum to keep him docile.

 

Well, then.

 

* * *

 

“You didn't have to be such an asshole about it,” he grumbles without waiting for Thor to say anything as he walks into the kitchen, blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. Thor watches him, guarded, leaning against the counter-top with his arms folded. “I really was just thinking about you and then it sorta got away from me.”

 

“I know. I'm sorry. I simply... feel this very strongly.”

 

“You felt it?” Loki asks, smirking.

 

“Yes. Very clearly. We still don't have much firewood, I'm afraid.”

 

Loki laughs, approaching Thor and nuzzling underneath his chin. Thor responds instantly, wrapping his arms around him. “Well I guess you better go chop some more and then make some very nice apologies to me.”

 

His meaning is clear through the husky tone of his voice; through his lips trailing over the whiskers of Thor's beard.

 

A sound rumbles in Thor's chest. He's pleased. He pulls Loki even closer, saying something in a purring whisper.

 

Loki doesn't hear him. He's staring past Thor's shoulder, unseeing.

 

The kisses Thor presses to his neck feel like a chain choking him.

 

But that's why they feel so good – this time, he remembers the chain is there.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, come on.  
> You didn't think it was going to be that easy?  
> [thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if this is hell](http://thorduna.tumblr.com/tagged/if-this-is-hell). Come yell at me.


	20. hell

 

Thor pulls him down onto the floor right there in the kitchen, clearly unaware of the shift in Loki's thoughts. Loki lets him, he even enjoys it when, expertly as always, Thor sucks him off and fingers him just right.

 

He doesn't feel bad about trying to fuck harder into Thor's mouth or about grinding down on his fingers, in fact, there a perverse edge to the feeling, fueled by his hidden anger.

 

_Take it_ , he thinks to himself, watching Thor swallow his cock. _Enjoy it while you can._

 

His aggression is being read as enthusiasm of course and Thor even encourages him, keeping still for Loki to drive his hips upwards and to slide into Thor's mouth again and again until he comes with a gasp, his rage mingling with hot pleasure.

 

Then it ends and he feels the hard floor under his body and the hollow ache of _something._ He blinks at the ceiling, head spinning.

 

“Sweetheart?”

 

“What?”

 

“You seem... far away.”

 

Loki manages to muster a smile. “Must have sucked me out of my mind.”

 

Thor seems to accept that, kissing his collarbone. Loki squirms when something tickles him on the side of his legs and he cranes his neck to see Thor's tail curling around the two of them.

 

“Sorry,” Thor laughs. “I was feeling a little... beastly.”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

Thor goes a bit tense for a couple of breaths, then pulls back to peer into Loki's face. “This is as liminal for me as it is for you. The gain of power can be a little... unpredictable.”

 

“Liminal?”

 

“It's change... you and I are no longer how we were, but we are not yet how we will be when we complete the process. When we'll be bound together.”

 

Loki regrets asking. That's just what he needs, more talk about how Thor is slowly siphoning power from him, drawing him deeper and deeper, like a spider on a web, tugging the lured fly in.

 

_No longer how they were_. No, of course not. Thor has already done things to him, established some kind of a connection that tells Thor when Loki is turned on and when he isn't. Loki gets _wet_ when he is turned on now. And that would be something to explain to a partner. Maybe he could hide it from a girl. It would be harder to fool a guy, he supposes, unless he was pretending to be so into it all the time that he randomly squirted lube up his ass just in case they might get frisky.

 

The thought makes him cringe. He can't really imagine being like that.

 

Being like that with someone.

 

His gaze falls back to Thor who still hovers over him, propped up on his arms above Loki like he always does.

 

“You're still angry.” It's flatly said, a curious blankness in Thor's eyes.

 

“I'm not angry,” Loki shoots back, his tone in direct contradiction to his words. “You just... it wasn't fair.”

 

“No, of course not.” The frown and downcast sad eyes confuse Loki. “I don't know how to describe the feeling that I got, but it made me very... irritable. It shouldn't happen in the future though, should it be only you.”

 

“What?”

 

Thor gives him a piercing look. “Touching yourself.”

 

Loki hates the hot flush of embarrassment that instantly pours over him. He doesn't like talking like this. Isn't used to it. It unearths so much he’d rather leave hidden.

 

“I should have controlled myself better. You don't deserve my anger.”

 

Loki can't stop himself from going stiff in Thor's arms as he mulls that over. _Doesn’t deserve anger._ A novel idea.

 

“I'm not gonna just-” He cuts himself off. No. No he decided that he would play along until an opportunity presented itself. That he would act like everything was alright, until the last opportune moment.

 

But Thor is not privy to those thoughts and he strokes Loki's hair. “No, of course not, and you shouldn't have to. But, just wait, please? Until we are bonded?”

 

Loki digs his nails into his palm, knowing he can't speak right now. He has no idea what would come out. What would happen. Thor is not the only one here who is prone to losing control.

 

The hand in his hair is soothing, scratching at his scalp a little bit. “I wish it wasn't like that, but I am not in perfect control. I'm sorry. I know you hate it. I know you think it's just a weak excuse.”

 

“You were mad,” Loki says, voice trembling. He can barely get the words out past the tremors, past the tightness in his throat, but for some reason they just won't go unsaid. “You were mad, and now you're not. About the same thing. I can't. I can't.”

 

He didn’t realize how much that frightened him.

 

That for all the horror being with Thor brought at the start, Loki thought he had learned how to navigate his situation. Thor was, in the end, a simple creature and with simple needs. All that cuddling and endless orgasms satiated him perfectly and Loki was free to be himself, mouth off and sleep in and read his old paperbacks.

 

He doesn't realize he is clawing at his own stomach until Thor pries his hand away. “I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

 

Loki gasps for breath and then he's crying, _wailing,_ the desperation bursting from him, sudden and violent, stealing his breath. Fog is spreading over his thoughts and in that very moment he can't think of why this is happening, why the hurt is there, why he is sobbing his heart out, but he _is_.

 

He is _food_ to Thor. He is pointless and replaceable. He needs to remember it or he will go back to being a pawn, a silly little toy. A piece of meat, really.

 

Thor kidnapped him and lied to him and tried to force him to be quiet and let himself be devoured.

 

He's nothing to Thor.

 

Nothing, nothing, _nothing._

 

That word pounds in his head over and over again, echoing in his skull until he thinks he will go mad with it. Perhaps he already has.

 

Somewhere beyond the painful chasm of his mind, he notices that Thor is picking him up. He hears yet another scream, and words being shouted, and the rooms sways, blurred and darkened by his tears.

 

_Nothing._

 

The screaming doesn't stop until all of a sudden, Loki is underwater. Or so he thinks, because everything has fallen cold and quiet.

 

It's _too_ cold and not really all that quiet anymore when he gasps and cries out in surprise.

 

Like waves slowly washing down at a shore, it all comes back to him only gradually. The most acute and worrisome fact is that he is sitting, completely naked, in a bank of snow. His face is wet not just with tears, but with freezing cold water as the snow melts against the heat of his skin.

 

Secondly, his throat is painfully dry and he can feel a hell of a sore throat coming on.

 

Thirdly, Thor is standing a few paces away, as naked as Loki is, watching him worriedly.

 

“You're not _nothing_ to me,” Thor says, voice deep and loud at the same time. “You're everything to me.”

 

“Food,” Loki chokes out.

 

“What-”

 

“I'm food.” His teeth start to chatter and he looks down at himself. The snow is leaving red welts all over his skin.

 

Thor seems to notice too and he snatches him up. Like a rag-doll, Loki is carried inside and briskly dried before being wrapped up in blankets and set in front of the fire.

 

He is woozy. This all still feels like a dream, like he is an empty shell being dragged through an unfamiliar landscape. His movements are not his own, there's only the twitch of pounding pain somewhere where his chest should be.

 

“Loki...”

 

“Mm?” Not wanting to look at Thor, he finds that the fire is fascinating. He holds his hand, fingers spread, in front of his face, watching the flames through the four uneven gaps between his fingers.

 

“Sweetheart, you need to tell me what is bothering you.”

 

Loki slowly lowers his hand back into his lap and says nothing.

 

“I was wrong to be mad at you. I'm sorry. It was a... visceral reaction I couldn't help. I desire you, every second, so strongly. But it- It was wrong. I know.”

 

“You didn't care before,” Loki slurs through his puffy lips, trying very hard to focus his gaze as precisely as he can on the dancing flames.

 

“Care about what?”

 

“Making me do what you wanted.”

 

“It was never my goal to hurt you.” Thor sounds pleading. Sometimes, Loki despises this weird naiveté that Thor displays. It always comes with a wide eyed look of kittenish sadness. It makes Loki angry.

 

“No, of course it wasn't. If I was in pain, I wouldn't be a good pleasure cow.”

 

There is a silence then, a long one. It lasts so long that despite the turmoil and the numbness, Loki almost starts to come to himself. He has to wonder whether or not Thor is yet in the room. He turns, his muscles protesting. The chill he's experienced is making itself known, and the humid warmth enveloping him now underneath the blanket does nothing to help.

 

Thor is still there, standing in the far corner of the room, staring. Loki shivers. He looks like a boogeyman, hidden in the shadows, hair wild, eyes glowing. His stillness is unnatural.

 

An exhausted tendril of terror rises in Loki when Thor's eyes flash and he moves forward. But then Thor is bending down to him, his face smooth and human looking and he's pulling Loki to his feet.

 

“Come, then. This will help.”

 

Thor lifts him up, bridal style. The blankets fall away from Loki, leaving his sweaty skin exposed to the chilled air. He makes a sound of protest. He doesn't want to be cold anymore. Or hot.

 

He doesn't want to feel anything at all.

 

With some difficulty, Thor manoeuvres them through the cellar door. Loki focuses on how it feels to breathe in. The subtle pleasure emanating from his chest when he successfully fills it with air. It's going to end soon, he's sure.

 

He has shown Thor that he is too much trouble. Thor is stronger now. Perhaps his little tryst with Loki has given him back the will to live, to enjoy himself. He will rid himself of Loki and then head out into the world, luring someone else in.

 

Someone better.

 

And he doesn't mind. He just wants to _rest_.

 

Thor places him on his back on the altar and Loki closes his eyes. It’s as painfully cold and hard as it’s always been, but he welcomes the steadiness of it now. It makes him feel grounded. Anchored.

 

It startles him when something is poured over his chest and he looks up, shocked, wondering if it could be his own blood and he simply didn't feel it erupting from some wound that Thor had dealt him.

 

It's not. It's oil and herbs.

 

His rational mind knows that Thor has never, ever, given any indication that he wanted to end Loki's life. Or that it would be his solution to a problem Loki might cause. His punishment. But Loki's rational mind is locked somewhere behind a sturdy door of desperation and he doesn't like this, doesn't like what the oil signifies.

 

He likes it even less when Thor joins him on the altar and spreads Loki's legs to accommodate his hips between them.

 

Thor strokes his cock and Loki feels it, the movement, the predictable pleasure of it, but he is barely half hard. It invites hysteria, the idea that he simply can't get it up for Thor.

 

But then Thor hitches Loki's hips up, almost bending him in half, and starts to lick and lap at his hole. Perfectly attuned to the sensation, Loki knows he's getting wet, his body opening and welcoming Thor's tongue in, even when it grows beyond its natural length and slips deeper into Loki, slippery, moving, filling him up and targeting the spot that makes electricity buzz all over Loki's body.

 

He still feels like he can't move, can't put a sentence together, but his body is otherwise very much alive and very much absorbing Thor's touches. He must no longer be in possession of it. Not in the way it matters. What Thor wants, Thor takes, maybe not by force, but certainly by long, incessant caresses that make Loki forget who and where he is.

 

Maybe it's been like that from the start.

 

Thor's fingers inside of him are blunt and thick, but the oil and the slick stop any attempt at resistance, if there ever was any.

 

“Loki.”

 

He blinks up. Thor is holding him beneath the knees, keeping him spread open.

 

He’s an angel, hair framing his face softly, muscled torso gleaming in candlelight. His lips are soft and so are his words.

 

“You'll be mine. But I'll be yours too.”

 

And with those words, Thor presses the tip of his cock against Loki's hole and pushes in.

 

Loki gapes, speechless.

 

There is discomfort, stretch almost to the point of pain. It feels intrusive and inescapable. And it's both, because Thor keeps going, hitching Loki's legs high and wide open and he bears down, pressing inch after inch of hot, thick cock into Loki's barely ready hole.

 

It's maybe not as alien as it could be, not after Thor's fingers and his tongue, but it's still harrowing. Perhaps, if he hadn't just been put through so much heartache and confusion, he would take readily to it, breathing past the odd feeling, waiting for the pleasure to come. Thor would stroke him and kiss him and Loki would play pretend at struggling until Thor let him be on top. Then Loki would truly start to experiment, tilting his hips, searching for the best angle.

 

But now he can only sprawl with exhausted limbs, eyes filling with tears for no reason he can currently name. Maybe because there’s too many reasons to name them all.

 

He gasps for breath and some – more resilient – part of him rebels against the idea of crying again, of choking on his sobs, but he quickly realizes it's not his own failing that he can't breathe easily, it's the air shifting in the room.

 

He stares up at Thor. His skin is rippling with shadows and this time, the candles have nothing to do with it. Loki only glimpses parts of him; sometimes he thinks he sees yellow fur, other times it's sleek green scales.

 

But then the image stabilizes. Deep black horns part Thor's angelically blond hair, his eyes flash bright blue. His tail smacks the underside of Loki's thigh like a whip.

 

And his wings.

 

Their span fills the room.

 

Deep skin and feathers. They sound like leather rubbing together.

 

Loki gags.

 

Thor's cock is deep within him.

 

With a growl, Thor starts to fuck him harder and Loki's back arches. He's unprepared for the feeling of it, because it's not _pain,_ not entirely anyway, it's warmth, burn, it's a feeling in his belly that he can't ignore and that is rapidly, inevitably turning into pleasure.

 

“Thor-” He's not quite sure why he says Thor's name, but once he starts, he can't stop. “Thor, _Thor!_ ”

 

Maybe it's because _Thor_ is someone who doesn't like computers and can bake cookies. Maybe because Thor is someone who wears flannel and indulges in snowball battles and hums to music when he drives. Maybe because Thor is someone who promised to never hurt him and told him he would kill his fucking dad for all the shit he'd done to Loki.

 

And because Loki really wants that Thor back and is terrified of the being that hovers over him; unearthly; hellish.

 

He raises his arms without knowing what he wants to reach for, Thor's face maybe, or chest, where he is still the self Loki is used to, or maybe he wants to reach between them and stop the inevitability of what Thor is already past doing to him.

 

Thor catches his wrists in one hand before he has a chance to decide, bracing his other hand next to Loki's head, bending forward so that he can keep fucking into him as Loki's legs twitch somewhere at the level of Thor's armpits.

 

But he brings Loki's arms simply to rest between them, kissing his knuckles even as his glowing eyes bore into Loki's.

 

Feeling like his fingers are the only parts of his body not restrained, he tries to flex them, reach Thor’s face. He brushes over his mouth and Thor growls, taking two digits in his mouth, laving them with hot – and rough, rough like it’s never been before – tongue.

 

It’s like a lick of flame; awakening. Loki’s pleasure, buried deep below anguish, surfaces again and he feels his ass clenching around Thor, slickness gushing as Thor pounds into him. He wants to close his eyes, but he can’t and so he watches it all, the monstrous transformation reaching its peak.

 

Horned and winged, with a coiling tail and sharp claws that constantly threaten to slash Loki into ribbons where Thor holds his limbs where he wants them, he’s almost unrecognizable.

 

And yet his eyes never leave Loki’s, they never lose the gaze Loki has started to take for granted: burning _want_ and somewhere beneath it affection as well.

 

Loki whimpers, craning his head to look down between them. His cock is straining in the air, lightly brushing against Thor’s stomach as it flexes in time with Thor’s thrusts. It feels like something is gripping it, stroking him, but it’s not true, all that sensation is coming from the drag of Thor’s cock inside of him. Thor buries himself to the hilt rhythmically and every snap of his hips against Loki’s feels like a hot tug at Loki’s cock.

 

He thinks it can’t be real, it can’t _really_ feel this way – mind-blowingly, achingly pleasurable – but Thor proves him wrong, speeding up until the sensation blurs into constant, uninterrupted onslaught. Crying out, Loki arches his back,  his thrashing driving one of Thor’s claws across his chest, drawing blood.

 

He’s _coming_ , pulsing even as Thor speeds up, fucking into him so roughly Loki wants to start screaming again. His arms are hitched above his head, held there with steel grip and the threat of claws. Thor bends down, licking up the blood that has welled just above Loki’s nipple before forcibly kissing Loki on the mouth, his tongue invading almost the same way his cock is.

 

When he thinks he just can’t take it anymore, Thor stills above him with a low growl and Loki feels, actually _feels_ the hot pulses of his come inside of him. He squirms;  there’s so much of it and it very nearly burns.

 

The air shifts so abruptly that it gives Loki a spell of vertigo and he blinks. Thor is kissing his cheek and nuzzling at his ear, letting go of his restrained arms and pulling back slightly so that he can slip out and Loki can lower his legs.

  
He stares up at Thor.

 

He's... normal. Human. A handsome face and a messy mop of curling blond hair. That's all.

 

Thor stares right back at him and a smile slowly tugs at his lips. When he speaks, Loki knows for certain that he imagined nothing of what just happened. Thor is all that Loki has seen, and more.

 

His tone is melodic, and satisfied.

 

“It's done.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I can honestly say it's been the plan from the start to make the final step of the #bondingritual really, ahem, not romantic.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around!


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